You Were There
by SquishyCool
Summary: At 16, Carly, Sam and Freddie have changed a lot, especially Carly. But when Sam and Spencer find themselves left behind, can they save Carly? Or will Sam's regrets eat her alive first? Spam, Creddie and more. Rated M for language, drugs and sex.
1. Chapter I

**Part I**

"Hey, Carly?" Sam yelled, looking around the empty apartment.

The couch was unoccupied, the TV was left on, the computer had already gone to a screensaver, and Spencer's latest artwork lay out on the kitchen floor, only half-painted.

Sam closed the door behind her and glanced up the stairs. All of the lights were off up there. She then wandered to the foot of the stairs, but stopped when she saw Spencer sitting on his bed in his room. She watched him for a moment, then hesitantly entered his room a little farther.

"Hey… Spence?" she greeted, taking a couple of steps toward him before stopping.

He looked up as if he just noticed she was there. A darkness in his eyes quickly vanished. "Hey, Sam. What're you doing here?"

"Me and Carly were supposed to do something today. She told me to come by around three. Where is she?" Sam explained.

Spencer's mouth fell into a frown. "Oh. She uh… she left. We got into an argument again and she left somewhere with Freddie, I guess."

"Oh," Sam muttered, her spirits falling. She felt a pain in her chest as she watched Spencer's eyes fall back down to his folded hands, the worry creasing in his forehead.

Carly and Spencer had been fighting a lot lately. They hadn't even fought nearly this often until just a little over a year ago. As Carly, Sam, and Freddie entered freshman year in high school, Carly had begun to hang out with other friends a lot, going to parties and spreading her wings. She and Sam were still best friends with a successful webcast; they just didn't like the same crowd anymore. Carly liked to sneak out every Friday or Saturday night to parties, leaving Sam asleep on the couch. She liked to "try anything once," and Sam had even caught her and Freddie making out once. She was starting to realize how many guys really did like her and wanted to date her. She changed a lot, and eventually began disobeying Spencer's simple rules. Things had only gotten worse once she turned sixteen. Even after Spencer threw her a sweet sixteen party and allowed all of her invited guests to dance and party in the apartment, she got angry and argued with Spencer when he wouldn't let her have a keg and "just not tell anyone about it." And lately, she seemed to think that being sixteen gave her complete freedom – she didn't even listen to Spencer about anything anymore.

Spencer sighed, still staring down at his paint-stained hands. "I don't know what to do, Sam. She's just so… not Carly."

Sam nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."

"I mean, I see you more often than I see Carly. She's always out, she doesn't listen to me… What did I do wrong? She used to love hanging out here with you and Freddie… now it's like it's too boring for her," Spencer said.

Sam took a couple of hesitant steps closer to him. She understood what he was saying. They _had_ spent several dozen nights sitting on the couch in the dark, watching late-night TV as they waited for Carly to get back from "studying" at some girl's house. And somehow, Sam now felt closer to Spencer than she even felt to Carly. The only time she really saw Carly and got to spend time with her lately was on the day of their weekly "iCarly" shoot, and on the Friday or Saturday nights before she snuck out to a party. And when they talked, it was like Carly wasn't even listening. She was always texting or talking on the phone to some other friend, or just staring at you, like she was waiting for you to finish.

And as much as she hated admitting it… Sam felt like she was starting to see Spencer as more than just her best friend's big brother.

"Well, I don't really know what's happened to her lately… It's like she doesn't really appreciate us anymore," she said sadly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Spencer slowly looked up at Sam with sad eyes, then scooted over on his bed and patted the empty spot beside him. "Come sit down, Sam."

Her heart beat a little faster. She crossed the rest of the floor to Spencer's bed, then carefully sat down next to him. He smelled of paint and Axe cologne. Her eyes met his as they gave each other exhausted looks.

"I'm just really tired of dealing with her, and worrying about her, and trying to tell her how dumb she's being and just getting yelled at for it," Sam confessed, looking back down at his hands.

Sam looked away, focusing her attention on the wall a few feet away. "I know."

"I'm glad you're not like her," he said a little quieter. "I don't need to worry about _both_ of you."

Sam smirked and looked back over at him. "You wouldn't have to worry about me. My mom does enough of that for anyone."

Spencer chuckled. "Yeah, but… that wouldn't keep me from it. Just imagining Carly at some stupid high school party, and then you with her… I'd have heart problems before I was thirty."

"Well, Spence, I guess we can just say that Carly and I are two totally different sixteen-year-olds, as much as I hate to admit it," Sam said, leaning back and resting her hands behind her on the bed.

Spencer nodded, then looked back over at Sam, his brown eyes meeting with hers again, holding the gaze. "I'm kind of glad about that… I mean, I miss my sister, but at least I have you to spend time with."

A shiver ran up Sam's spine. Now she knew she wasn't imagining what she felt – the sexual tension between her and Spencer. It had been there for weeks now. Whenever their eyes met, it was so strong… And whenever Spencer said something like that, something that just _seemed_ like it meant so much more, Sam could tell. She wanted to believe it, but she also felt foolish. This was her best friend's brother… She couldn't be having any feelings for him! They'd known each other for over three years now, they'd told each other so many things, and besides, he was so much older than her…

"So… do you want to leave since Carly isn't here? I'm sure you have somebody else you want to spend today with," Spencer asked after an awkward silence.

_No, I honestly don't_, Sam thought, but just blinked and smiled a little. "Well, not really. But I'll leave. You probably want to get back to work on whatever that is in the kitchen."

She started to stand up, but suddenly, she felt a large, warm hand gently grab onto her wrist.

"No, stay – please," Spencer told a surprised Sam. "I just - I'm not used to not having anyone here to talk to. It'd be cool if you could just hang out for a little bit. You could even help me with my sculpture… if you want."

Sam slowly nodded, then glanced down at her arm. Spencer quickly brought back his hand, smiling. She sat back down and looked at him. "That sounds great, actually. So… you want to go into the kitchen and get to work?"

Spencer shrugged, picking up one of his pillows and tossing it at Sam's head. "We could do that – or we could take a nap!"

Sam laughed, catching the pillow and throwing it back to him. She was glad he was acting like Spencer again, cracking jokes all of the time. "Yeah, I don't do so well without my blanket."

Now Spencer laughed as he set the pillow back down behind him. Sam's smile still lingered as his happy chuckles faded away, staring into his brown eyes. It was something about him that just made her happy, even when she was missing her best friend.

Suddenly, she felt his hand sliding closer to hers on the spot between them. Before she knew it, his fingers were over hers, and her face felt hot. She glanced down at their hands before looking back up at Spencer, who had a question in his eyes. His hand then reached under and grasped onto Sam's. She swallowed nervously, but gave him a small smile, trying to act confident. She was honestly confused on the inside, but she was trying not to show it – trying to just go with her gut feeling. And her gut feeling was telling her to go with this, to see where Spencer was taking it.

Before she knew it, his hand had slipped from hers and was wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She obeyed and scooted closer to him, their legs now touching. His hand rested on her hip, and he gazed at her hopefully.

Sam's face was looking up at Spencer, but the next thing she knew, her eyes were closed and her lips were waiting to feel his, her head inching closer to his. He was doing the same, cautiously placing his lips on Sam's, kissing her softly. She leaned into the kiss and started kissing him back, blood rushing through her veins at full-speed. Spencer's hand tightened on her hip, and his other was resting on her knee, pulling her slightly closer to him. She followed his pull and soon found her side pressed into his, their kisses becoming deeper and more passionate.

Spencer's hand began creeping up Sam's leg, making its way from her knee to her thigh, resting for a moment. When she noticed it beginning to move again, she quickly raised her hands and gently pushed Spencer away by his chest. She opened her hazy, blue eyes and saw his. She took a quick breath.

"Spencer…"

He gulped and nodded, blinking. "I know… I'm sorry. I don't know – "

"No," Sam interrupted. "Don't apologize. It's just that… well, I thought that tension between us – I thought I'd only imagined that. I mean… I'm _Carly's_ age. You're her big brother."

"I know," Spencer said, shaking his head. He placed his palm on his forehead, looking more confused and stressed than ever. "I really do… I just – I've been ignoring this feeling and all this tension because I thought it was wrong. But you're always the one that's here with me; you've been there for the past year. You may be sixteen, but you don't seem like it when I'm with you."

A spark lit up inside of Sam. "Yeah?"

Spencer brought his hand down and looked at her with soft eyes. He nodded, raising his dark eyebrows. "I never thought I could see you as anything more than another little sister, but I really do. But – but if you think it's wrong, or if you have someone else or whatever… Just tell me. I just… kind of acted on impulse there."

Sam looked down sadly. "I don't have anyone else. That guy, Simon, dumped me weeks ago… He liked Carly. That's what he decided after dating me for a month."

Spencer frowned. "Didn't you tell me…?"

Sam quickly nodded, remembering that night a few weeks ago when she and Spencer had been hanging around the apartment, waiting for Carly to get home, and the cable went out. They had ended up talking, and then playing some stupid games, one of them including Truth or Dare. Spencer had asked Sam how far she'd gone with a guy, trying to make it sound like he was imitating a teenage girl, when in reality, he really was a bit curious. Before thinking about it, Sam had told him that she'd gone all the way with Simon, her boyfriend of almost a month. That game ended in a conversation where Spencer had tried to hide his jealousy with a lecture about Sam being responsible and careful. She didn't really understand his sudden worry about her.

"Well, I'm sorry… Some guys are just scummy like that. I wish you'd have found one of the few that aren't like that," Spencer said quietly.

Sam looked up, a little surprise on her face. "Thanks, Spence. I guess you can't find a guy like that around here, though, huh?"

"Yes, you can. You just have to look for him," he said, then hesitated, staying silent.

She watched him for a second, letting the silence fall over them. "I don't have a problem with it, by the way. I'm just afraid of what Carly would think, and Freddie."

Spencer's eyes brightened a little. "Yeah, I understand. I-I probably shouldn't have done that anyway. It's a stupid move. I'm probably just confusing both of us more – "

His words were quickly cut off, however, by Sam's lips once again on his. She scooted closer to him again and took his hand in hers. After getting over the initial surprise of it, Spencer gave into the kiss and gently wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. Their free hands grasped each other's, both rested on Spencer's leg. They continued to kiss, all thought of their age difference or of Carly completely leaving their minds for that moment. All Sam could focus on was Spencer's soft lips, tasting of fruit punch and… paint? She didn't really question it; it was just another attribute of Spencer, something she'd always relate to him. And as his tongue gently ran across the line of her lips, her heart beat just a little faster – which was also something she'd always relate to Spencer.

"Hey, Spencer, has – "

The two jerked apart, their eyes snapping open. They turned to the doorway of Spencer's bedroom, where the voice had come from. There stood Carly, with Freddie standing faithfully by her side. They both stared in shock and awe at the scene before them.

**to be continued...**


	2. Chapter II

**Part II**

"What… the HELL is going on?!" Carly finally managed to cry, her eyes narrowed in disbelief and resentment.

Spencer stood up and approached his sister. "Carly, nothing's going on here. Don't worry about it. Where have you been? Why did you leave like that without even telling me where you were going? I've been worried for – "

"No, no, no. Don't even _try_ making this about me, Spencer," Carly snapped, taking a few steps back with Freddie still behind her. "You and Sam were making out, weren't you?"

Spencer stopped and sighed. "No, that's not what was going on at all. It's really none of your business, so I suggest you just stay out of it anyway. Now tell me where the hell you went and _what_ you've been doing!"

"None of my business? That's my _best friend_! I think it's my business if you decide to try to get with her, Spencer!" Carly retorted.

Sam stood and stepped up beside Spencer. "Actually, Carly, no – it's not your business. You've been a pretty crummy best friend lately. And honestly? I would've stopped coming over here months ago if it weren't for Spencer being here. He's the only reason I even hang out with you anymore."

Carly looked stunned. Her mouth dropped open a little in surprise, and her brown eyes widened at Sam. "Sam… you have a thing for him? What happened to being my best friend? All I've done for the past year is try to be a best friend to you, and it's like you've just been pushing me away!"

Sam sighed. "_Me_ pushing _you _away? Carly, come on. You know the truth here. You've completely changed over the past year. Ever since you turned sixteen, and just before, you've been acting like queen of the world; like you can do whatever you want, _when_ever you want. And you've really been hurting me and Spencer a lot. What else do you expect us to do? It's like you've completely pushed us away from you!"

Carly pursed her lips, her narrowed eyes darting back and forth between Spencer and Sam. She finally spoke in a lowered voice. "I don't know what I did to you guys… You know what, I'm leaving. I don't even want to deal with any of this right now."

She turned and headed for the front door, then stopped and turned around. Freddie still stood in his spot, eyeing Sam and Spencer suspiciously. There was something in his eyes, though. Sam wondered if it was only her imagination that saw it, but before she could decide, Carly's voice interrupted Freddie's gaze.

"Freddie – come on!"

He glanced back at Carly, then turned around and walked away, taking one last glance back at Spencer and Sam before leaving through the front door with Carly. The door slammed hard, and then there was nothing but silence ringing through the apartment.

After a few moments, an exasperated sigh escaped Spencer's mouth. "Well… there she goes again."

Sam looked down at her feet nervously, touching the toes of her battered, green Converse sneakers together. She looked up again to find Spencer's confused but calm, brown eyes gazing at her. She wondered what was going through his head at that very moment.

Finally, she mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Spencer's brow creased. "For what? You didn't do anything."

She shrugged and looked back down, unable to face those brown eyes for once. "I guess I should've stopped coming over when I realized me and Carly's relationship was going downhill. But I didn't. And now I'm just going to get you in trouble… and ruin what's left of you and Carly's relationship."

"No, don't say that, Sam. You haven't done anything. If anyone is to blame for all this, it's Carly," he quickly said.

Sam shook her head, then left the bedroom, walking quickly towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Spencer asked, following her.

She grabbed the doorknob, not stopping. "I'm leaving. I'm not going to make this situation more complicated than it needs to be – than it already is."

She began to pull the door open, but Spencer's strong hands gently took her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Before she knew what was going on, he pressed his lips against hers and kissed her hard, taking her breath away. Their lips merged, the kiss lasting almost a minute. But all of the thoughts running through Sam's head forced her to pull away and jerk herself from his grasp on her. She looked up at him, seeing the question on his face. A tear stung her left eye. She shook her head.

"No, Spence," she choked out. "We're only making it more difficult than it has to be."

Before he could say anything else or make her feel any worse, she hurriedly turned around and left, shutting the door tightly behind her. Her feet carried her down the hall in no time, but as soon as she turned the corner and faced the elevator, she broke down. Her back hit the wall behind her and she slid down to the floor, her face in her hands. Her whole body was shaking, and her head was spinning.

_What am I doing? _she asked herself. _I care about Spencer so much… but our age difference… we can't be together. Carly would hate me. Our friendship would be done for sure. Mom would freak! But… I like him so much. I may even love him._

Back at the apartment, Spencer remained standing in front of the closed door, staring at it. He kept waiting for Sam to walk back through, to throw her arms around him and tell him she felt the same about him as he felt about her. He just wanted to see her face and know everything would be okay.

But all he'd gotten was an apology and a rejection, and possibly even a broken heart.

**to be continued...**


	3. Chapter III

**Part III**

"_and Robert Smith lied: boys do cry..."_

The phone rang… and rang… and rang.

Sam just stared at it, letting it ring. She knew who was calling. And she was glad her mom was at work, or else she'd be getting questioned about why Carly's big brother was calling so much. That was the last thing she wanted to talk to someone about… how she walked away. It still hurt like a fresh wound.

She pulled her legs in closer against her chest, and rested her chin on her knees. Her blue eyes drifted down to the carpeted floor, but her mind was drifting back to the apartment and Spencer sitting inside, alone. She couldn't stand this; it was driving her crazy. She'd known for a little while now that some part of her liked him, but she thought she could push it away. She thought that, maybe, if she just ignored it and kept reminding herself over and over that it was her _best friend's big brother_, then the feelings would go away.

But they didn't.

She suddenly realized that there was silence around her: the phone had stopped ringing. Her eyes darted back to it, watching closely. There was still 0 messages on the answering machine, but apparently he'd given up. Her heart dropped a little, wishing he'd keep trying. It made her feel like he really cared and really felt the same about her as she did him. Or maybe she'd ruined it already by walking away like that. She silently hoped she hadn't hurt him.

_How much could I possibly mean to him anyway?_ she asked herself.

At the apartment, Spencer sat on the couch, phone in hand. The sun was going down, leaving an orange glow on the wood floors of the small apartment around him. He stared down at the phone, questioning himself inside his head. What had he done wrong? Had he moved too fast? He was sure he'd creeped her out, crossed some boundary that wasn't meant to be crossed. It was his _little sister's best friend_… What was he thinking?

Frustrated, he chucked the phone across the room. It hit the door at the end of the kitchen and fell to the floor in two pieces. He sighed to himself and stood up, looking around him. The piece of art he was working on still sat idly in the kitchen.

He hadn't told Sam he was making it for her.

Sam hesitantly dialed the all-too-familiar phone number, pressing each button slowly and carefully. What would she say when he picked up? What would they talk about? Could she ever go back over there again? She didn't want to just run away from all of this. She wanted Spencer more than anything in the world, but she felt like all the odds were against them. He was so much older, and Carly would be so angry… None of it seemed fair.

She put the phone to her ear and listened as it began to ring. Her heart beat a little faster, readying herself for when the ringing stopped. But it continued. No one was picking up.

Her heart dropped. She took the phone from her ear and turned it off, putting it back on its cradle. She'd ruined everything. She knew it. She'd let too many hours pass, and now Spencer probably thought she was done with him completely.

Carly walked in the door and to the bar in the kitchen, where she set her bag down. She looked around at the darkened apartment, only the light of the city below and the moon in the sky shining in through the small window above the kitchen sink. She turned on the lamp next to the couch. Right away, she spotted the broken phone lying on the kitchen floor. She sighed and walked over to it, picking it up and easily putting it back together. The battery and the back of the phone had come off. She placed it back on its cradle and turned around, inspecting the rest of the room. She finally noticed that the piece of art that had been sitting in the middle of the kitchen earlier was no longer there, only the newspaper it had been set on was left, paint splattered on it.

Walking back to the living room, she heard some rustling from Spencer's bedroom. She eyed his closed door suspiciously, unsure of exactly what she'd find behind it. She took her chances anyway, though, and approached it. She quietly placed her hand on the doorknob, slowly turning it while listening intently. It didn't sound like there was much of anything going on. She hoped Spencer was alone and asleep, like he always was when she got home this late.

Pushing open the door quietly, she stuck her head in, trying not to make any sound. She saw a body under the covers of Spencer's bed, the moonlight from the big window on the opposite side of the room shining across it. His CD player sat on the nightstand next to his bed, its display reading 21. This meant Spencer had been in bed for a while, because his entire CD had played through.

Then she saw it: an empty bottle of Jack Daniels lay on the wood floor in front of the nightstand, a tiny bit of its liquid glistening on the floor around it.

Carly narrowed her eyes and entered the room, leaving the door open behind her. She approached Spencer's heavily sleeping body and peeked over, checking on his face. His body rose and fell in deep breaths, and his cheeks and eyes were red and puffy. He'd been crying.

"What the fuck, Spencer?" she whispered to herself.

She began to gently shake him, trying to wake him up. But he didn't budge. She shook him harder, saying his name, demanding he wake up.

"Spencer… Spencer! WAKE. UP!"

He grunted and rolled over, slowly opening his eyes. He squinted in the darkness, then rubbed his eyes, looking up at Carly in confusion. She could smell the liquor on his breath. He was still drunk, she knew.

"Wh- Sam?" he grumbled.

Carly groaned. "No! Not Sam. It's your fucking sister. What do you think you're doing?!"

He slowly sat up, staring at Carly. His eyes wouldn't stay focused, and his face was confused. "Don't… don't cuss, Carly. You need to watch your mouth…"

"Oh my God, shut up!" she said angrily. "You were drinking! _Why_ were you drinking?"

He shrugged.

Carly stared at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. She finally realized he wasn't going to answer, so she stamped her foot in anger. "That's it! I'm fucking leaving. I can't take this!"

"Take what?" Spencer asked, still confused.

"What you're doing! Falling for my best friend and shit… You think I'm blind? 'Cause I'm _not_, Spencer. You're an idiot for even _thinking_ of getting involved with her," she complained, turning and heading toward the partly open bedroom door. "I'm leaving. I'm sick of Sam's bullshit, and I'm sick of yours. I'm gonna go stay with some friends, _maybe_ I'll come back sometime, but _I don't know_."

Spencer's eyes opened wide. He quickly stood up, balancing himself. "No, Carly! You're not going anywhere!"

She stopped and turned around. "And who's gonna stop me? Your drunk ass? I don't think so. Fuck off, Spencer. I can take care of myself."

She walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. This took a bit to comprehend in Spencer's brain, but when it did, he quickly darted out of his bedroom and turned on the living room light to see Carly heading upstairs to her room. He quickly followed her, stumbling over the first few stairs.

"Carly! Carly – stop!" he demanded.

"Fuck off, Spencer!" she yelled back, getting to her room and slamming the door behind her.

Spencer followed, pushing the door open and stepping into her room. She was at her bed, hastily packing a duffel bag with clothes.

"God damn it… Carly! Quit! What do you think you're doing?!"

She stopped and turned to face him, eyes narrowed and angry. "I'm leaving. I told you that. And you can't stop me. I'm done with this shit hole."

He stood in a stupor for a moment, confused. Why did she want to leave? A _shit hole_? He had made the best home for her that he could… and now she wanted to run away? Where had he gone so wrong with her?

He crossed the room to her bed and grabbed the duffel bag, tossing it to the floor behind him. "You're not going anywhere."

She looked up at him, surprised. Her eyes were frantic, and she had that look on her face that she'd had so often since she'd changed. Sternly, she spoke, "Give me back the bag and get _out_ of my room."

"No. You're listening to me now. This has gone on for too damn long," Spencer ordered. He had sobered up quickly from his emotions. "Ever since you turned sixteen, you've been acting like queen of the world. You don't listen to me anymore, you basically abandoned Sam, and you've been partying and putting yourself in danger, never doing anything I ask… You can't even follow the simple rules I have! I've made it so easy for you here, and you've shot it all to hell! _What_ is going on with you?!"

"Ughh!" Carly growled. She pushed Spencer aside and grabbed her bag, throwing the last of the clothes she was packing into it and zipping it up. "You wouldn't understand, and I don't expect you to. Just leave me alone. I can take care of myself!"

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but Carly shoved past him and left her bedroom, jogging down the stairs to the living room. Spencer rushed to the top of the stairs and watched her. "Carly… don't do this!"

She turned back around for a split second, her face full of resentment. Then, she turned back and disappeared out the door, letting it slam shut behind her. The sound echoed through the empty apartment, reminding Spencer just how alone he was now.

And just like that, Carly was gone.

**to be continued…**

-----------------

**AN: **So, over a year later, I've finally updated. Sorry about the wait. I've been going through a lot of things in the past year. But I didn't let you guys down. =] This part is kinda slow, kinda crappy, I know. But I was having some trouble transitioning into my ideas. I think Part IV will be better, though. Be patient – it'll be here soon. Until then, review and let me know what you honestly think! Thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed this so far!


	4. Chapter IV

**Part IV**

"_and when I feel like giving up, like my world is falling down, I show up at 3 am, she's still up watching Vacation, and I see her pretty face, it takes me away to a better place and… I know that everything; know that everything; know that everything...   
everything's gonna be fine."_

Almost immediately after Carly left, Spencer rushed to his bedroom and threw his clothes on in a hurry, not even bothering to tie his shoes. He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and left the apartment, shutting off the living room light, but not bothering to lock the door on the way out.

He speed-walked down the hallway, passing the closed apartment doors. A couple of the doors opened as he passed them, curious tenants sticking their heads out to see what all the yelling and door-slamming was about. But he just ignored them. The building was quiet and half dark. He didn't bother with the elevator; it took too long. Instead, he took the stairs and jogged down them in half the time the elevator would've taken.

He reached the lobby, which was empty. Lewbert wasn't around, oddly enough, and had left his desk unattended for now. This helped Spencer none, since now he had no one to ask if they'd even seen where Carly had gone. He exited the apartment building doors and walked out into the chilly night air, the city lights over-sparkling the stars in the sky. Seattle was abuzz with night owls, numerous cars driving past and people wandering down the sidewalks, huddled under their coats. Spencer realized he'd forgotten his jacket, but it didn't really phase him right now like it usually would.

He eyed the street, looking up and down both ways for any sign of Carly. He was sure she'd be walking, but she was nowhere in sight, and there was no way she could've gotten that far away that fast on foot. Then he spotted a yellow taxi driving by and his heart almost dropped… of course. She'd probably hailed a cab in no time, and was most likely halfway to wherever she was planning on going by now.

Spencer sighed and jogged to his car a little ways down the block. He got in and started it, then pulled out of his parking spot and started on his way down the street. He couldn't think of any friends she'd be staying with, because he only knew of a few of the people she'd started hanging out with since basically ditching Sam.

But then, she _was_ with Freddie. And his mother had only lightened up slightly over the past year or so, only letting him stay the night at other places on weekend nights. She still demanded to know where he was at all times, though, and she always had a way of knowing if Freddie was telling the truth or not.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Freddie's mom's number. He knew she'd be upset, but he had to talk to her.

After a few rings, a tired voice answered, "H-hello?"

"Mrs. Benson! It's Spencer, Carly's brother. Would you happen to know where Freddie is right now?" Spencer asked hurriedly.

There was a moment of silence, then, "Spencer? Spencer Shay? Well… why are you asking that? Is something wrong? Why are you calling so late? Has my Freddie done something?"

"No, no," Spencer assured. "I'm just looking for Carly. See, we… well, it's a long story, but I just need to know where he is, because he's with Carly, and I have to find her."

"Can I call you back, Spencer? I'm going to have to call Freddie for a minute," Mrs. Benson answered him.

"Yeah, of course," Spencer agreed.

They hung up, and within just a few minutes, Mrs. Benson called back. Spencer answered.

"Well, Spencer, I can't tell you where Carly is, because Freddie says he hasn't been with her for the past couple of hours. He's at another boy's house, the Prewitt boy," she explained. "But I asked him if he had any idea where Carly is - I told him you're looking for her – and he said he had no clue. He said he thought she was at home."

Spencer sighed. Of course she'd told Freddie that Spencer was asking… That ruined any chances of getting anything out of Freddie.

"Alright. Thanks anyway, Mrs. Benson. Sorry for waking you up," Spencer apologized.

"Oh, it's alright, dear. Let me know if you find Carly okay," she told him.

After hanging up, Spencer racked his brain for any idea as to where Carly could be. What friend could she be staying with? He'd made the mistake of not bothering to get down all the names and numbers of her friends. But then, she probably would never have let him anyway, seeing as to how secretive she'd been lately. He didn't like the new Carly at all… he wanted his little sister back.

He drove and drove, but covered not even a part of the city. Seattle was big, and Carly was a small girl. She could be anywhere. He checked all the spots where she used to hang out, and all the places where she'd been escorted home from by the police. He even eyed the dark alleys in between buildings, praying she was inside someone's house, safe and sound.

However, his gas tank was running low by now, and his motivation even lower, and he was still no closer to finding Carly than he'd been two hours ago. Exhausted and defeated, he headed for home, a worry gnawing at the back of his mind. He prayed Carly would come back home… and soon…

Spencer pressed the UP button next to the elevator, waiting patiently. There was still no sign of Lewbert behind the lobby desk, and the apartment building seemed to feel even emptier now. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside, pressing his floor number and watching the metallic doors come together in front of him.

As he waited to reach his floor, Spencer felt tears stinging his eyes. Small pools gathered at the corners of his dark eyes, but he quickly rubbed them away. He felt so hopeless and so distant from Carly. He still didn't understand why she was doing this. And he still didn't understand how Sam really felt…

But he couldn't think about Sam; not right now. He had to focus on Carly and where she could have gone, and whether or not she was going to come back anytime soon. Obviously, Sam was done with him, and couldn't handle the stress that the feelings Spencer had for her brought. He understood, though: he knew Sam deserved better than him, and he knew even thinking of being with her was wrong. He should've stopped himself in the beginning, but he was always the kind to make mistakes like that and to act on impulse.

By the time he reached his apartment door, he was disconnected from the world around him. He was lost in his own thoughts as he turned the knob and pushed open the heavy door, shadows from his darkened apartment tracing around his tired face. He closed the door behind him, not even looking up. But when he turned around, he stopped abruptly. His mouth fell open a little bit as he stared at what was before him.

The TV was on, showing an old Chevy Chase movie. The glow from it lay across the couch in front and across part of the living room. But the couch wasn't empty. Sitting in the middle was Sam, the blanket from Spencer's bed wrapped around her and her legs curled up beneath her. Her blonde curls fell across her shoulders so perfectly. The glow from the TV showed her face as she turned to look at Spencer.

"Sam…"

She just gazed back at him, forcing a small smile at the corners of her lips. Finally, she replied, "Hey, Spence…"

Almost immediately, Spencer's heart felt lighter and it beat a little faster, and his eyes lit up. He gave a small smile back and approached the couch, setting his keys and cell phone on the end table next to the couch. He looked down at Sam, questions all across his pale, tired face.

"What… what're you doing here?" he finally managed to ask.

She turned her head back to the TV and shrugged. "I… dunno. I guess I didn't feel like staying at home. I couldn't take this… being away from you."

She slowly turned her head to look back up at him, his eyes looking a little happier than before.

"But… I thought you hated me or something. You didn't answer my calls, and I… ugh. I was so afraid I'd ruined everything… I did, didn't I?" he confessed, his voice becoming softer, revealing how vulnerable he truly was.

Sam looked surprised when he said this. She raised her eyebrows. "What… What do you mean _you _ruined everything? I thought I did… I thought… I thought you gave up on me after I didn't answer your calls… You didn't answer when I called back."

Spencer shook his head. "I broke the phone after you wouldn't answer, so I didn't even get your call… I would've answered, Sam."

"Oh," was all she said, looking down at her lap. Her blue eyes glistened with tears.

Spencer quickly walked around to the front of the couch and slid down into the seat next to Sam, wrapping his arm around her. He brought her in closer to him, and she let her head rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat felt so good to her.

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry," Spencer whispered softly, stroking Sam's blonde hair with his free hand, holding on tightly, protectively, to her with the other.

Sam took in a sharp breath, trying to push away the knot in her throat. "What – why are you apologizing? What are you sorry for?"

"For… earlier. I shouldn't have done that. I did the wrong thing," he explained quietly, still stroking her hair comfortingly. He was sure she could hear his heart speed up in his chest. "I guess I just… I dunno, acted on impulse. I never think before I do things. I just _do_ them. And I'm sorry. Because I know you weren't ready for that. I felt like I was almost taking advantage of you…"

Sam slowly pulled her head away from his chest, raising it and looking at him oddly. She straightened her spine out and let her hair fall across her shoulders. Spencer couldn't help but notice how perfect she was, even in the dim glow of the TV.

"Spence… what do you mean? Taking advantage of me? Please… I kissed back, didn't I?" she said, almost confused. "I…"

Spencer waited, but she didn't go on. Her mouth stayed open for a moment, then she shut it and looked away. She leaned back, away from him, and rested her back against the couch, wrapping the blanket around her tighter.

"You what?" Spencer finally asked, still sitting there, waiting.

Sam sighed. "I… _care_… about you, Spencer. More than I probably should. And I like you in a way I _shouldn't_ like you. You're Carly's big brother… You've been like a big brother to me for years."

Spencer's face fell. "Well, I care about you, too. And don't you think I feel the same? I like you and it's kind of weird for me – you're my little sister's age. And here I am, unable to stop thinking about you… And all I wanna do is wrap my arms around you and hold you… I've seen you differently for the past few months, and obviously you've seen me differently, too. Why should we pretend like that's not there?"

Sam shook her head, as if trying to shake the thought away. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back a little. "Spencer… it's _wrong_. It's so wrong…"

Spencer let out a defeated breath and collapsed back against the couch, finally resting after his long night. "I just want this to be okay, Sam… I can't stand being away from you. I need you here. I don't have anyone else…"

Sam opened her eyes and lifted her head up, looking at him with a worried expression. "What do you mean? You have other people…"

Spencer shook his head. "No, I really don't. You've been the only one."

"What? No," Sam insisted. "You've got – or _had_ – Carly, and your family, and your other friends you've always talked about."

Spencer gave a crooked half-smile. "Yeah, right. I'm so lonely, it's not even funny."

Sam didn't say anything to this, she just watched him, admiring him. She took in every detail about him, storing it away in her mind for later. She wanted to remember everything about him, because she loved it all.

He finally raised his head and stared into Sam's blue eyes. "Sam… Carly's so far away now. I don't even know her anymore. I don't have my family; they've never been there for me. Carly was the only one. And now I don't have her… But all this time, when she's been ditching you and me and changing and everything… I thought no one would be there. I thought I'd be alone again, just like I was before she came here. But I realized I wasn't. 'Cause, ya know, every time I thought I was alone, every time I felt like it was all hopeless, just a lost cause… every time I felt like giving up… _You_ were there. I mean, look at this: I'm out for two hours searching for Carly, and I come home thinking I'm just going to toss and turn all night and worry myself to death, but I walk in and find you sitting here. It's three in the morning, and you're sitting on my couch watching 'Vacation'… You're always there just when I need you the most, you always have been. That means more to me than you could ever understand."

Sam couldn't hold back the tears forming in her eyes. She closed them, trying to hide it, but Spencer knew she was about to cry. He reached over and gently placed his hand on her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He felt a tear roll down, so he wiped it away. Then, he looked up and noticed a silhouette in the kitchen.

"What… is that?" he asked.

She raised her head up and looked at him, then looked in the direction he was gazing. "Oh, I… I found that outside, in the dumpster. I don't know if you threw it away on accident, or if you didn't like it, but… I like it. I didn't want you to throw it away. So I brought it back up here."

He looked back at Sam and smiled faintly. "I… made that for you, ya know."

Sam's eyes widened. "What? Why would you make something for me? How long have you been working on it?"

Spencer shrugged nonchalantly. "I realized how much I care about you, and it was all I felt like thinking about. I wanted to express it some way, put it in solid, physical form. So, I started making that a couple days ago. It's probably one of the art projects I've nearly finished in the least amount of time."

Sam finally smiled, the tears still pooled in her blue eyes. She looked happy, though. "Aw, Spence…"

He reached down and took her hand in his. Suddenly, she surprised him by leaning in quickly and placing her lips on his. He closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His hand squeezed hers as he leaned into her, kissing her back. He reached up with his other hand and carefully took the back of her head, covering his hand in her blonde curls. A small sound came from her throat, and she swallowed, trying to remember to breathe as their lips merged.

And in that moment, it all came clear to her in a rush. In such a confusing time, she wasn't sure about much, but she did know one thing for sure… _She loved Spencer._

**to be continued…**

------------------

**A/N: **This is rated T right now, but the next part will change it to rated M, probably, just to let you guys know. It's not gonna be a really big deal, but just warning you ahead of time. I hope you guys continue reading the story until it's finished, and review with your thoughts. :]


	5. Chapter V

**Part V**

"_kill the lights, it feels right…"_

Sam could barely think with Spencer so close to her, his lips on hers. She took in the taste of him (was that liquor…?), smiling into the kiss. The butterflies in her stomach were on steroids. She slowly and hesitantly reached her hand up and placed it on the small of Spencer's back, squeezing tightly onto his hand with the other. Then, she felt the tip of his tongue pushing against her lips. She parted them and they began exploring each other's mouths, hearts beating faster and faster. Nothing else around them seemed to even exist. Sam felt as if she'd risen into the air and floated away; she'd been wanting this for so long.

Spencer felt weak with Sam's palm against his back, her fingers just slightly digging into him. He loved everything about her: the softness of her hair and the way it tangled around his fingers, the taste of her lips, and how warm her hand was in his. He didn't want to let go of her. He just wanted to stay right here, connected with her, holding onto her, and know that he'd never have to see her walk away again. It felt as if his heart was being glued back together.

He felt the anxiousness rising in his chest, eager for Sam to be closer to him. He wanted to taste her, smell her, kiss her, touch her… _everything_. He wanted to know he was seeing her the way no one else ever had; he wanted to suck all of the pain out of her body, and feel her smile against his lips forever.

She pulled away just slightly, breathless, and whispered, "Spence…"

He felt her breath on his lips, and he opened his eyes to look back into hers, his lips still parted. He brought his hand down from the back of her head. "Yeah?"

Her eyes looked worried. "What… are we doing?"

He crinkled his eyebrows. "We're… kissing…?"

She smirked. "No, I mean… you know… about us. What is this?"

Spencer paused and thought for a moment. He inhaled, then whispered back, "I love you, Sam."

She was speechless. She didn't say anything back for a few moments. Spencer's heart raced, afraid he'd said the wrong thing, afraid she didn't feel the same way. _Oh no,_ he thought. _I fucked this up already…_

But slowly, a smile grew on her lips, and she leaned in and kissed him again, staying there for a moment. Then she pulled away. "I love you, too, Spencer. I know I do."

Spencer grinned happily and reached his hand up, taking the back of her head again. He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply, their tongues twisting together. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and she crawled on top of him. Her body felt light on top of his, and he placed his hands on her hips, carefully positioning her on top of him, her legs straddling him. She held the sides of his head with her hands. Her blonde curls fell down around her face, brushing against Spencer's cheeks. He felt his pants getting tighter, but Sam had noticed this as soon as she'd gotten on top of him. His erection was pressed against her inner thigh, sending tingles through her body. She felt a nervousness she hadn't even felt the first time she'd had sex - the first and only time…

Spencer felt her hands slightly shaking as they reached up his shirt, and he reached down and grabbed them. He stopped kissing her and opened his eyes, meeting her blue orbs again.

"What's wrong?" he whispered confidently.

Her brow took on a worried expression. "Nothing… I'm just… nervous."

He chuckled. "Why? It's not like it's your first time, right?"

She shrugged. "I never liked Simon that much. He kinda pressured me into the whole sex thing, so it didn't really mean anything… But I love you. I love you a lot, Spence. And I don't wanna mess this up."

Spencer smirked. "Don't worry about it, Sam. I love you, too. We don't _have_ to do this if you don't want to…"

"No, I do. I want this more than anything," she quickly said. "I'm just nervous, 'cause it actually means something this time… It's like, for real now…"

Spencer shook his head, pecking her on the lips before saying, "Well, stop worrying. I know you're nervous; believe me, I am, too. But there is absolutely nothing you could possibly do that would ever make me like you any less. This is just going to show me exactly _how_ perfect you are."

Sam smiled weakly, leaning in to meet his lips again. She drank him in like she was dehydrated. He sucked and nibbled on her bottom lip, sending more shivers down her spine. She soon realized that she was more than ready for this.

She slipped her hands up his shirt, running them across his warm body and smooth skin. She pressed her pelvis into him, and he moaned into her mouth, bringing a satisfied smile to her lips. He felt his pants growing tighter and tighter with every brush of her skin against his. She soon had his shirt over his head and on the floor. In return, he lifted her shirt and caressed her bare stomach, then her lower back. She shivered against him. He carefully slipped off her T-shirt, then the long sleeved shirt underneath it, tossing them both to the floor to join his own shirt.

More caressing, softer touches, and more inches of soft, pale skin, and they were soon bare, only Sam's panties and Spencer's boxers left to cover them. They switched now, Sam lying back on the couch, kicking the blanket to the floor. Spencer carefully balanced himself over her body, leaning down to kiss her. It was like he couldn't get enough of her.

However, he heard the sounds of music coming from the TV. The movie had gone to credits minutes ago, darkening the screen. He paused and looked up, seeing the white print moving down the screen and the same music playing over and over. He reached to the coffee table and pressed the POWER button on the remote. The TV instantly shut off, sending the room into total darkness, spare the moonlight leaking in from the two windows. It glowed on Sam's milky white skin, and Spencer couldn't help but stare for a moment. He looked back to her face to see her eyes staring back up at him, round and bright. He smiled down at her reassuringly, then leaned in and kissed her cheek, then her neck. He paused, his lips just below her ear.

"I wanted to be able to hear you breathe," he explained softly, and she squirmed anxiously underneath him, smiling.

He wanted this to be perfect, but Sam could already tell it was going to be.

They grinded against each other's lower bodies now, craving more. Spencer continued kissing her neck, sucking on it and moving lower. He placed soft kisses all over her chest, then sucked gently on her breasts. She shivered again, becoming frustrated with herself for her lack of self-control. She could feel her heart pounding, but there was something stronger than that lower on her body.

Sam couldn't stop her mind from racing now, all kinds of thoughts running through. She kept telling herself this was really Spencer: her best friend's brother, the guy she'd had a stupid crush on for years now, the guy she was sure would never be anything more than a juvenile crush. But he was also her closest friend now, and the only person she felt like she could talk to anymore. She had cried in front of him, and even cried on his shoulder, staining numerous shirts with her tears. However, he had done the same with her. She felt like she knew him inside and out now, he had told her so many things in the past months. They had had so many conversations, and so many laughs. They had so many inside jokes. Her relationship with Carly was not even comparable to her relationship with Spencer. They often caught themselves quoting their inside jokes around Carly, leaving her looking confused and giving them weird looks. But Carly would never understand. Carly didn't know Sam anymore.

She always knew, though, that even if she stopped going to the Shay loft one day, she would never forget Spencer and how special he was to her.

Sam was quickly pulled out of her thoughts by Spencer's fingers gently slipping under the elastic of her panties. She squirmed, then scolded herself inside her head. She couldn't control the shivers and the goose bumps, just like she couldn't control how nervous she still was. She was assured of Spencer and her love for him, as well as his love for her. She just had that fear deep down that this would end up like it did with Simon.

Spencer brought his head back up to Sam's neck, brushing his lips across her skin. Referring to his hand lingering on her panties, about to pull them off, he whispered to her, "You're okay with this?"

She quickly nodded. "Yes. Just… be careful. Please."

He smiled against her skin, placing another soft kiss on her neck. "I wasn't planning on being anything else."

He slid her panties down her legs carefully, dropping them to the pile of clothes on the floor. She bit her lip and reached down, slowly grasping onto him. He inhaled sharply at the sudden sensation of her touch against him. He was aching for this now.

She looked up at him with questioning eyes and he nodded back to her, assuring her again. She looked back down to where her hands were and began slipping his boxers off of him, revealing him. He helped her the rest of the way, pulling them fully off and dropping them. He them repositioned himself over her smaller body, lowering his down closer until their skin met. He pressed his lips to hers again and kissed her, his hand moving down her stomach in the meantime. He ran his fingers over her, slipping his hand down lower. Finally, he slipped one finger inside of her.

She gasped lightly, then relaxed again. He continued kissing her, and she kissed back, comforted by the feeling. His stomach was knotted up, nervous to touch her. He kept remembering that she'd only been with one guy before this, and he didn't want to hurt her or ruin anything. But he craved her so badly.

He slowly and carefully moved his finger around, feeling her squirm under him. But she only kissed him back, her lips pressing against his harder the more he moved his finger. He slid another finger in and continued. Moans escaped her throat, and she pulled away from his lips, breathing heavily now. She moaned quietly, trying to stop herself, but failing.

Feeling that she was ready, and not wanting to wait any longer himself, Spencer slowly lowered himself down and stopped at her entrance. He looked into Sam's eyes.

"You ready?" he whispered, taking short, quick breaths.

She nodded. "Yeah."

He paused. "Do you want me to get a condom…?"

She scrunched her nose, remembering how the condom Simon had used had felt really uncomfortable and had only made the experience worse. "If you want to. I don't care…"

He stopped for a moment, his mind racing, but decided against it. _Nothing's going to happen. And even if it does, we'll just deal with it… I'm not worried right now. What are the chances, like, one in a thousand? Who cares… I just want her NOW, _he thought to himself.

Her hands gripped his back and he reached down to align himself just right, then slowly and carefully pushed himself inside. She tensed up and gasped, gritting her teeth. He was way bigger than Simon had been, so she wasn't used to this. But as he pushed in deeper and moved his hand back up to hold himself up, she relaxed. She squirmed a little, until, finally, he was all the way in. He looked back up at her and gave her a quick kiss.

"You're really tight," he whispered, giving a small, breathless laugh. "Does it – how does it feel?"

Sam relaxed more, getting used to the feeling. She nodded. "Good…"

She was about to tell him that he was bigger than Simon had been, but she stopped herself, thinking it was probably a bad idea to mention any other guy's name at this time. Instead, she smiled up at him reassuringly and stole another kiss from him, bringing his attention back to kissing her. She moved one hand up to grip the back of his head.

Carefully, Spencer began thrusting in and out, very slowly at first, and steadily quickening. Sam's breathing started coming in shorter, quicker gasps, and Spencer found himself to be breathing a bit heavier now. He kept going, though. It felt so good, and every time he looked down to see it was really Sam he was doing this with, it only made it a thousand times better.

He leaned his head down, still steadily thrusting, and kissed her neck, gently at first, then more viciously. He inhaled her taste, and started going faster. Her grip on the back of his neck tightened, and she started tugging at his hair. It sent tingles down his spine, and now he was almost enveloped in ecstasy.

"Oh, Spencer," Sam moaned quietly, unable to help herself. "Yes, oh…"

He continued breathing heavily, smiling at the sound of her voice. He whispered breathlessly into her neck, "Ah, Sam…"

"Faster," Sam directed him.

He was surprised at her sudden demand, but followed and began thrusting faster. In and out, in and out… She felt amazing around his erection, and she smelled and tasted so good. The tugs at his hair gave him more motivation to go faster, making him want more and more.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Sam was almost squealing now. She didn't like how she was sounding, but she really couldn't do anything about it. It was an automatic reaction to the way this felt – amazing and like nothing she'd ever felt before. Not to mention, every time she looked up to see Spencer looking back down at her, it sent waves of happiness through her. He was the only person she could imagine doing this with.

Her muscles tightened and she arched her back, gripping even tighter onto his skin and hair. She pressed herself into him even more, wanting to be right against him.

He continued thrusting, feeling a burning at the pit of his stomach. He groaned, reaching one hand underneath Sam's head and burying his face into the soft skin of her neck. He kissed her hungrily. He knew what was coming, and he didn't like that it had to happen so soon, but he hadn't had sex for a while now, and he couldn't really control it. He was pretty sure she had just had an orgasm, though, so he hoped it was enough.

Breathlessly, he whispered, "I'm… gonna come."

He felt her nod. "Harder."

He thrusted into her deeper, and harder, like she'd requested. He felt it building up. One more thrust, and he stopped, feeling himself release inside of her. He moaned, hearing her gasp in his ear. He thrusted into her a couple of more times, then stopped and slowly lowered himself down on top of her, trying to catch his breath. He kissed her neck again, then pulled away and looked at her. Her face was flushed and sweaty, and tiny beads of sweat glistened on her chest. She leaned up and kissed him, staying there until she had to pull away to continue catching her breath.

"I love you," Spencer whispered, still breathless.

She smiled, her blue eyes glowing in the moonlight. "I love you, too, Spence."

He lifted himself up again and Sam braced herself, letting him slowly and carefully pull out. He collapsed beside her, his back pressed up against the back of the couch. The back of his head was sore, but he didn't mind. It was a _good_ sore.

He rested his head on the arm of the couch, breathing in Sam's scent. "Was that… alright?"

She turned her head and looked at him, smiling. She raised her eyebrows. "That was better than alright… That was _amazing_."

He smiled, pleased, then asked, "It didn't hurt, did it? I tried to be really careful and go slow…"

She smiled again, letting out a deep breath. "It did at first, but then it was okay. You're just way bigger than… what I'm used to. It felt really, really good, though."

He leaned in and kissed her softly, feeling their sweaty cheeks press against each other. When he pulled away, he laid there, staring into her eyes. He was completely sobered up now, and the small throbbing in his head didn't even bother him. Sam was still lying on her back, resting, but her head was turned towards him and she stared back, getting lost in his brown eyes. She couldn't even begin to describe how happy she was at this very moment. She just wanted to pause it and keep it forever. The way the moonlight bounced off his body just right, and the smile on his flushed face, and his mussed black hair.

She was in love.

Eventually, they let their eyelids lower, and Sam snuggled up to him, wrapping a small arm around his torso. He wrapped his arm around her and held her closer, kissing her forehead. Before they knew it, they had fallen asleep, and the Seattle moonlight slowly faded into sunlight, still glowing on their bare skin.

**to be continued…**


	6. Chapter VI

**Part VI**

"_but can you feel the __tension__ in the air?  
assuring you once again I'm __there__."_

The brightness of the afternoon sun coming in through the window woke Sam up, burning through her eyelids. She slowly lifted them, squinting at the bright light shocking her eyes. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was, or why she was in the Shay loft, sleeping on the couch… naked. She could feel the worn couch on her bare skin. Then the memories all came back to her, bringing a hesitant smile to her face. She knew she'd have consequences to face for the night before, but for now, she just wanted to bask in the joy she felt.

She slowly sat up, letting out a yawn. She stretched out her stiff arms, and looked down to see a blanket decorated with ducks covering her. Then she heard his voice in the other room.

"Yeah… Well, are you sure she's gonna be there? …Okay… No, I just… Well, yeah, of course… Alright… Okay, well, thanks again, I really appreciate it."

It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, but he was talking in a hushed voice. Sam looked over the back of the couch to see Spencer's bedroom door closed. Just as she was about to get up and investigate, the door swung open and there he stood, obviously having just showered and dressed. His hair was still damp and he had a worried expression on his face, his cell phone still in hand. He looked up and spotted Sam watching him from the couch. He smiled.

"Oh, hey, you're up," he greeted, walking around to the front of the couch and setting his phone on the coffee table before turning and looking down to her.

Her eyes widened and she quickly laid back down, covering as much of her body as she could with the blanket. She looked up at him standing above her, feeling her face go red. "Hey…"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

Sam shook her head. "Nothing. I'm just… uh… Could you hand me my clothes?"

Spencer reached down and collected her clothing for her, handing it to her. He gave a chuckle. "Why're you acting so shy all of a sudden?"

She shrugged, wrapping the blanket around her before standing up, her clothes held in the hand that wasn't holding the blanket up. "I'm not… I'm just gonna go shower and get dressed…"

"Okay," he said slowly, wondering if she was all right after the night before. "Is your mom gonna be wondering where you are…?"

She stopped, suddenly remembering her mom and all of the missed calls from Spencer that she forgot to erase on the phone at home. But that honestly wasn't her main worry at the moment. So instead, she pushed that thought from her mind and figured she'd deal with her mom later. She just wanted a shower and some clothes on.

"No, don't worry about it… I'll deal with her," she told him. "If I don't come home, she usually knows I'm over here."

He nodded, then watched her walk through his bedroom to the bathroom, disappearing behind the closed door. He sighed and plopped down on the couch, feeling that it was still warm from where Sam had been sleeping. He smiled to himself, unable to get the memories of last night out of his head. They gave him hope for the first time in a while.

Of course, that worry still gnawed at the back of his mind as to where Carly could be. He wanted to find her as soon as possible, but from what Freddie had told him, he still wasn't sure if he'd find her any time soon. He couldn't get rid of this anxiety he was feeling. He just had to take some chances and do what he could… Because he'd do anything to find his baby sister, even if she wasn't the baby sister he knew, he had to save her from whatever self-destructive path she was on.

At one point, he'd debated calling the cops and reporting her as a runaway, or maybe even shipping her off to Yakima to live with Granddad. But just as quickly as those thoughts had come, they were pushed away, because no matter how bad the situation was, he refused to give up on Carly. He knew the cops would take her away if he called them, and he knew he wouldn't ever have custody of her again if he sent her to Granddad's… He loved his baby sister more than anything in the world, and he knew that, somewhere inside her, she still loved him. He was all she had, and she was all he had. He couldn't bear not having her now, especially at this point in her life. No matter how inexcusable her behavior was, he wanted to help her… Being a teenager wasn't easy, and if this was how she was taking it, maybe there was something more going on.

He had to find out. He had to save Carly before it was too late. He was her brother and her guardian, and he'd do all that he could to save her from the path she was going down, even if it hurt him in the process.

A little later, Sam emerged from the bathroom in her clothes from the night before and bare feet and her hair wrapped in a towel. She walked back to the couch and sat at the opposite end as Spencer, curling her legs up to her chest. She didn't look at him, she just watched the TV absent-mindedly.

After a few moments of this awkward silence, Spencer looked over, watching her. She looked nervous and lost in her own thoughts. He wondered what had changed since last night.

"Sam…" he started.

She looked over at him and stared into his eyes, then started talking as if it'd been building up for ages. "Spencer, I'm sorry, but I… I don't know what happened last night. I think you were drunk or something… You remember it, right?"

Spencer froze and stared at her, perplexed by her sudden mood swing. What had made her think like this? Was she that self-conscious? "Wh-what? What're you… talking about, Sam?"

Sam sighed, then put her face in her hands, shaking her head. "Oh, God, you did… you forgot… I'm so stupid. I knew I shouldn't have…"

"What? No, Sam, I completely remember… I was almost totally sober. I mean, I remember it and I don't regret it… I'd wanted that for the longest time," he quickly told her.

She looked back up at him, relief washing over her face. "Yeah?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Yeah… Did you think I was really trashed or something, like it was some mistake?"

She shrugged, blushing. "I… didn't know. I've never seen you drunk, so I… was hoping you weren't. But I never thought you'd do that with me…"

He gave her a small smile, reaching over and taking her chin gently, lifting her head so she looked at him. "I kissed you, didn't I? And in front of my own sister, no less. Of course I wanted that… I want _you_, Sam."

She finally smiled, and a small laugh forced its way out. "God, I'm sounding really retarded right now, huh?"

Spencer shook his head, laughing with her. "No, I understand."

They stared at each other, eyes locked for a moment, almost speaking without words, before they both looked away awkwardly. Spencer looked back to the TV while Sam looked down at her feet, feeling her cheeks go red again. What was with all the blushing?

"It's Carly, isn't it?"

She looked up, surprised at his sudden words. "What?"

He looked up and met her eyes once more. She saw tears brimming in his brown eyes. "It… it's Carly. That's why you're acting so weird… That's why you're so paranoid and worried… because of Carly."

Sam cocked her mouth to the side, looking away from him for a second, knowing that if she saw him cry, she'd start crying herself. "Y-yeah…"

He nodded and looked away. "I wouldn't have been able to sleep last night if it weren't for you being here. This place gets so lonely sometimes… She's always out, always gone, always _somewhere_. And the only person that ever really stays anymore is you."

She didn't say anything, sniffling and trying to hold back the tears. She missed her Carly so much sometimes.

"She's been… really shitty to you lately… Well, I mean, she's been shitty to everyone, of course. But, just, I can't believe how she's treated you. You've been her best friend since I got custody of her, you've stuck by her through so much, and she's stuck by you, and you guys have always been inseparable. It doesn't make sense… how someone could take a friend like you for granted."

Sam shut her eyes tightly, feeling the tears forcing their way up, but fighting them back, pushing them away. She didn't want to cry in front of Spencer; he didn't need anything else to get all worried about. "I-I know."

"She… she's not Carly anymore," he finally uttered out. "I just want you to know that, Sam. The way she's acting… there's something else going on. And I know she loves the both of us a lot, and the real Carly would never treat us this way. We just have to stick by her and help her. She's crying out for us right now, I know it. And now we need to find a way to get her to stay long enough to let us reach out – "

"Spence," Sam interrupted, then sighed in defeat, stopping what she was going to say. "L-let's not talk about… her…"

He nodded, shutting his mouth now and not saying anything else. He reached a hand up and roughly wiped the tears from his eyes before they could roll down his cheeks, then sniffled, trying not to make it obvious. He didn't want Sam to know just how much this was affecting him.

"Y'know… we just kissed for the first time yesterday," Sam said after a few more moments of awkward silence. She'd actually thought about this the entire time she was showering and dressing, and it was bugging her. "And then we… you know… just like, a few hours later… We're kind of moving fast, don't ya think?"

Spencer raised his eyebrows and looked over at Sam. "Well… I guess. Do you want me to… stop? I didn't wanna pressure you into anything, I – "

"No," Sam interrupted his apologies. "It's okay. I was just saying… is it wrong? Does it feel weird to you?"

Spencer shook his head, answering honestly. "No… no, it doesn't. Why? D-does it feel weird to you? Do you think it's wrong?"

She shrugged once more. "Kind of…"

He sighed sadly, looking down at his lap where his hands lay, picking at his nails thoughtfully. "I knew we shouldn't have."

Sam's heart almost stopped. "What?"

"I said, I knew we shouldn't have. We… did too much. It's too much for you. I'm sorry I pushed it," he explained. "I shouldn't have; it was wrong of me."

"So, you _do_ regret it? It _was_ just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Wasn't it?" she choked out.

He quickly looked back to her, confusion on his face, seeing the tears building up over her crystal blue eyes. "What? No! No, that's not what I meant at all, Sam. I just thought you… were wishing it didn't happen. I thought you just said that it felt wrong."

"I did," she said quietly. "But a part of it… feels so right. Like-like this is the way it's supposed to be. I just…"

"Well, we've known each other for years… We've gotten so close. Yeah, it was kind of fast, but it was kind of… building up for me… for a while," Spencer confessed, his voice getting quieter.

She didn't say anything for a bit, leaving him staring at her expectantly. When she finally did speak, it was almost a whisper. "We… didn't use a condom."

He furrowed his eyebrows, inhaling sharply through his nostrils. "I know… I-You said… Well… there's no excuse for it. I'm sorry for that."

She shook her head, quickly clearing her mind of any of those kinds of worries. "No, it doesn't matter. We'll be fine. Just-just don't worry about it."

They sat in silence for another good 10 minutes, staring blankly at the TV, not really taking anything in. They were both lost in their own thoughts – mostly about Carly.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Spencer finally asked, standing up. Yeah, it was the afternoon, but it was never too late for breakfast.

Sam nodded, even though she didn't have an appetite at the moment (oddly enough). She almost felt sick from the thoughts that were starting to creep up on her… thoughts about Carly, and about those months when Carly had first changed. She was starting to remember things she'd pushed to the back for the longest time. _Maybe now,_ she thought, _is the time to remember all this stuff and try to figure out how to help her. Maybe it's time to take responsibility for some of the mistakes __**I**__ made…_

Once breakfast was prepared, Spencer set the table for 2. Sam shut the TV off and slowly made her way to the kitchen, feeling exhausted and stressed. She hoped food would help. They both sat down at the table, scooping waffles, toast, bacon, and eggs onto their plate. Then, they ate in silence. Spencer tore into his breakfast, starved from the night before. Sam, however, just picked at her food, only eating the bacon, then staring at the rest and poking at it with her fork. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was still thinking thoughts that almost hurt her to remember.

Spencer cleared his throat once he'd finished his toast and looked to Sam expectantly, then used the courage he'd taken the past 5 minutes to muster up and spoke, "Sam…"

She didn't look up. "Hm?"

"I, uh… I found out where Carly's supposed to be tonight," he told her.

Now she looked up, her eyes getting bigger. "What? How? From who?"

"From Freddie," he explained. "He called me earlier while you were asleep. I guess he felt bad about the way Carly had yelled at us, and I guess he thinks it's wrong that she's run away. He said he doesn't want her to know he told me – "

"That little traitorous nub," Sam scowled.

"Hold on," Spencer stopped her. "He-he's helping us out. I mean, he's still following Carly around and everything, but he said he'd do this for us just this one time, and he told me about a party she's supposed to go to with him tonight."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"

Spencer nodded. "Yeah. He gave me the address and everything. The thing is… you know, I can't go to this high school party. I'll stick out like a sore thumb. Once Carly knows I'm there, she'll probably make a run for it, and then I'll just be screwed…"

Sam nodded, narrowing her eyes a little as she tried to follow Spencer's thought process. She hoped he wasn't thinking what she expected he was probably thinking.

"So, I really need you on this," he said more hesitantly. "Do you think you could…?"

"Could what?"

"Go to the party… tonight… and find Carly," he finished.

She shrugged nonchalantly, sighing. "I dunno, Spence… What am I supposed to do once I find her?"

"Talk to her," he suggested. "Try to talk some sense into her, or at least convince her that if she comes home and talks to me, that things could be a lot better and a lot easier for her. You're her best friend – or at least, you were. Still, you know her better than anyone, and I bet if you tried, she'd really listen to you."

Sam took on a thoughtful look to her face, and she looked down at her plate of food, playing the scenes out in her head. She wasn't quite sure how this would work, exactly. The only way she saw it working was if she went into the party, kidnapped Carly, tied her up, and drug her back to the apartment… but that was probably illegal in one way or another…

"_Hey! What if we kidnap Howard and keep him tied up till after the show?"_

_An exasperated sigh. "Okay, what have I told you about kidnapping?"_

"_It's illegal and rude…"_

_A satisfied smile. "Good girl."_

Sam chuckled to herself at the memory that had just come to her mind. There were so many great memories with Carly that made Sam smile and laugh. She missed that terribly. Where had her best friend gone? Maybe it was worth it to at least give Spencer's plan a try.

"What's so funny?" Spencer asked, placing another bite of his eggs into his mouth and chewing while watching her suspiciously.

She shook her head, smiling. "Nothing… I was just remembering that time I got detention on a night when we were supposed to do _iCarly_, and I suggested kidnapping Mr. Howard…"

He smiled. "Oh, that teacher who's obsessed with the Geometry Channel?"

She nodded. "Yeah… Ya know, she was always the one to keep me in line and keep me out of… well… getting into any _more_ trouble than I already got into… I miss that. I feel lost without her, Spence."

He didn't say anything, only nodding and watching her blue eyes sparkle, wanting to make her sadness go away. But he knew he couldn't. There was so much he had to do to even start with that.

"Hey, that reminds me," he said, trying to change the subject. "What's happened to _iCarly_ anyway? You guys haven't done it in a couple weeks…"

She gave a small shrug, poking her fork into her eggs once more. "I guess it's dead now. She's too caught up with everything else…"

He looked down, wishing now that he hadn't said anything, because she only seemed sadder after that comment. "I-I'm sorry I brought that up… I'm sure you guys will fix things and have the webshow back to normal again someday."

Sam shook her head, looking up at the ceiling and giving an exasperated sigh. "No, Spence, we won't… Nothing's ever gonna be the same again. You know it, I know it, Freddie knows it. It's all just changed too much. God, if I could just go back…"

Spencer reached over and gave her arm a soft squeeze, keeping it there to reassure her he was still there for her. "Not everything has changed – I'm still here. And I'm not gonna leave anytime soon. You can't live in the past, but you can change the future… That's why we've gotta do this – we've gotta do all that we can to get Carly back. We can restore at least _some_ normalcy. You love her just as much as I do, and that's not gonna change…"

After a few moments of letting his warm hand send warmth up her arm, Sam reluctantly nodded. "Yeah… I know."

"So do you wanna try tonight?" he offered again, bringing his hand back as she looked back down at her plate.

"Sure," she agreed, lacking much enthusiasm. "I guess it's worth a shot."

Spencer gave a pleased smile. "For Carly."

Sam nodded, looking into his eyes and trying to look hopeful for him. "For Carly," she agreed.

_I just hope it's not too late to repair the damage I've finally realized was __**my**__ fault, _she silently added to herself.

**to be continued…**

**

* * *

A/N: **Finally, I updated! Sorry, guys, I had writer's block for the longest time, but luckily, Lucy got me out of it =] We started a new Spam fic on our joint account, SPAMwich, and it's called _Simply Lovely_. You should check it out! Anyway, I know, this chapter was pretty boring. You can tell me if you really didn't like it. But I promise, more is gonna happen soon! I've been getting more and more ideas, and hopefully you'll all think it's interesting and continue reading, and hopefully you noticed some of the foreshadowing in this chapter...? There might be another chapter with a sex scene coming up, but again, it won't be anything explicit. And after that, I'm pretty sure there won't be any more sex, or at least not for a long while. So, once again, if you read this, please review and if you tell me nothing else, at least tell me if you liked it or hated it!  
Btw, the little "kidnapping is illegal and rude" quote was the actual scene from the episode "iGot Detention". I just had to throw it in there! ;]  
Oh, and side note here: if you've read my Cam fic, _Congratulations_, you should definitely **vote in my poll** on my profile! Thanks!


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

"_If I had my way,  
I'd cut the __calluses__ off your breaking heart;  
If I could get past the __sternum__…"_

After Sam had gone home to check in with her mother and change clothes, Spencer was alone at the loft. He went around, cleaning up from their meal and from the night before. Eventually, though, he found himself in the _iCarly_ studio, looking around in reminiscence. He already missed the fun they had. He frequently got to be a part of their extras for the website, or even their actual show (which were some of his most memorable times with Sam, and were very possibly mostly responsible for him falling in love with her), and he was always so proud of Carly for everything she did. He thought she was the perfect kid, and he thought that he actually might get lucky and have a well-behaved teenage girl to take care of; obviously, he was wrong.

He left the studio before it started making him cry, shutting off the light and closing the door tightly, then taking out his key and locking it. He'd never locked it before, but he thought now was the time to. Maybe it would keep all the memories from escaping… He then wandered downstairs, but stopped at the door to Carly's bedroom. It was partly open, so he pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped inside, turning on the light and looking around. She hadn't taken much, only some clothes and shoes and a few other personal items, including her laptop and the stuff off of the top of her dresser. Other than that, everything was still there.

He couldn't help but smile when he looked to his right and saw a bulletin board resting against the wall, having been taken down and set on the floor. It was covered with the pictures that were pinned all over it: pictures of Carly, Sam, and Freddie, of some of the more memorable guests from _iCarly_, of just Carly and Sam, a few family pictures from Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners she and Spencer had gone to years back, and there were even a couple pictures of Carly and Sam when they were little and had just become best friends. The pictures were faded and crinkled, but were pinned to the board with pride.

However, when Spencer looked up, he noticed a new bulletin board had been put in place of the one that had been taken down. This one held pictures of Carly and all of her _new_ friends… neither Sam nor Spencer were in any of these photos. It was all Carly's new friends, and Freddie. Her new friends were trouble-making girls, the ones who had rumors going around the school about them all the time, and who didn't listen to their parents, but still got whatever they wanted. They dressed in scandalous clothing that even a 20-year-old shouldn't be wearing, let alone a 16-year-old. A few of them already had tattoos, obviously received against their parents' wishes. And there were even a couple of pictures of Carly at parties, a beer or red cup in hand, laughing with her "cool" friends, and kissing other girls, with slack-jawed boys watching from the back.

Spencer only sighed, having already known about this little life his sister had been leading. He wanted to stop it, he really did, but he never knew how. And he wasn't going to ask his dad or granddad for help, because they'd only take Carly away from him, thinking he was too irresponsible to properly take care of her and discipline her. Even now, after all of this, he couldn't imagine his life without his baby sister there the whole time. He didn't want her to be hours away in Yakima. He just wanted her to be home again.

Still lost in his own sad thoughts, his gaze drifted to the left, where he saw a lone picture frame sitting on the dresser, the glass cracked. The picture inside was ripped in half: it was Carly and someone else, but the other person had been ripped off. He recognized this picture, though, and knew Sam should be in it. But Carly had torn it in half, just like her and Sam's friendship. And to think, Sam had always been the most important thing to Carly…

Spencer slowly entered the bedroom against his better judgement. He sat down on the bed, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. He ran his hand across the soft comforter absent-mindedly, letting it slip under the cool pillow. However, he felt his hand run across something hard and solid. He pulled it out from under the pillow, eyeing it. It was Carly's diary, thick, aged, and worn, but left behind.

She'd forgotten it.

He was about to open it, but stopped himself. This was wrong, to read his little sister's diary. Even if she'd been acting out, she had a right to her own privacy. He remembered keeping a journal as a teenager, and he also remembered that he would've been devastated if an adult had read it.

But there was so much he didn't know about her anymore…

_Maybe just a peek won't hurt,_ he thought to himself, slipping his fingers between some random pages and lifting open the slightly heavy book.

The 2 pages he opened up to were hastily written on in black ink, and there were tearstains on them. Curiously, and unable to resist, he read:

_**November 15**__**th**__**, 2008**_

_I CAN'T BELIEVE HER! I HATE HER I HATE HER I HATE HER __I HATE HER!  
__BEST FRIENDS FOREVER?? HA!__  
She's a liar and a tramp and a slut and a… UGHHH! I could just KILL her!__  
Okay, breathe, Carly… No, no, I can't! I can't even breathe without it hurting! Oh my God… I don't hate her. I could never hate her. I love her so much. She's my best friend...  
But she's lied to me for the last time. I can't take it anymore. She has hurt me too badly this time!_

_I don't even want to write about it… I just… I can't stop crying, and I can't stop replaying it over and over in my head. Oh, please, please let this be a nightmare… Sam wouldn't DO this to me, would she??  
Obviously she would, because I walked in and saw it with MY OWN FUCKING EYES!  
See how angry it's got me? I'm cussing! I NEVER cuss! But the whole walk home, I was cursing her name and screaming at the stars and crying and just wishing a car would hit me or something.  
I know that's a little overdramatic, but I don't know if you know how bad this really hurts. I loved him. I really did. He's the first boy I've ever felt that way about. And she __knew__ that!_

_I FUCKING TOLD HER THAT__! 3 nights ago, I sat here on this very bed, and I said, "Sam, I think I love him."  
And she said, "Are you sure, Carls?"  
And I said, "Yes! I've never felt this way about any other boy before. He treats me so well, and makes me feel so amazing… I'd do anything for him. I think about him all the time, and just seeing him makes my heart beat faster, and I feel like I can tell him anything and like I can be myself around him, and he's always accepted me for the way I am, even back when I didn't like him."  
She didn't really say anything at that point. She just kind of… looked away. I didn't understand. Weren't best friends supposed to like… jump up and down and scream with you, and smile, and laugh, and tell you how happy they were for you? Shouldn't she be telling me how lucky I was to have finally found someone like this?  
But she didn't. All she said was, "Oh."_

_And that's when Spencer walked in. Her mood suddenly changed entirely. She put on this fake smile, and then she said, "Hey, I'm gonna go home. I-I don't feel very good. I'll call you later, okay?"  
I didn't know what was up, so I just said okay and she left. She didn't call me later that night. When I saw her yesterday, it was like it had never happened. We went ahead and went to the party, and he came along, and then, when I wasn't paying attention, she left, and I didn't even know it! And then those guys started trying to talk me into stuff, and they started "playing around" holding me down and stuff… God, I'm so glad I managed to get out of there… And then, when I take the bus to his house, walking to and from both bus stops IN THE RAIN, and after she had LEFT ME back there without a word, I walk in and find her…_

_No. I'm stopping there. No more. I can't bear to write about it. It's too long of a story, with too many emotions, and too many tears, and too much screaming and crying and slapping. And that fucking smirk he had on his face before I turned around and left… I saw it. __I SAW IT__!_

_I have to find a new best friend. OBVIOUSLY I can't trust Sam. I always thought I could. But she's shown me that she is not to be trusted with anything, even the one thing she knows is my weakness.  
Who needs enemies when you've got best friends that will do all of that to you?_

_Fuck her._

_-Carly_

Spencer stared in awe, still feeling wrong for having read that entire entry. His eyes lingered on the scribbled signature of his little sister as he remembered that night… It was a couple of months before her 16th birthday, and he'd been in his bedroom… He'd let Carly and Sam go to some party, and they were supposed to be back by 2 or 3 or something like that. But he'd heard the front door slam sometime around midnight, and by the time he came out, Carly had already run up to her room. He'd knocked on the door and tried to talk to her, but she had locked it, and screamed, "GO AWAY!" So he let her be, because he had no idea what had happened.

If he had, though… Oh, just reading about those boys treating her that way made him angry. Even thought it was a year ago… He wished he'd known that night, because he would've tracked those boys down and made them regret _ever_ disrespecting his baby sister.

But now that he thought about it, things hadn't been the same since that night… _Carly_ hadn't been the same. Neither had Sam, really. They didn't act like best friends, but they still _called_ each other best friends. It was like a habit they couldn't shake.

Turning the page, he was unable to stop himself from reading the short entry that came next:

_**November 18**__**th**__**, 2008**_

_Izzy Warner called me after school today. Sam was here, so I came upstairs and took the call. She told me that her and her friends had heard about what happened at Tyler's party Saturday night, and that she was sorry. She said stuff like, "He's a jerk-off anyway" and, "He's so not worth anyone's time, especially yours" and, "I heard he did that to a couple of other girls way before you. I'm not even surprised, to be honest." I tried not to listen, because this was Izzy Warner – stuck-up rich girl who wore clothes that just barely passed the dress code at school and who partied every weekend, all weekend, doing God knows what kinds of things with boys and drugs and everything else, and I'd heard so many things about her that I was fairly certain were true – but it was so hard not to listen, because she was saying all the things I needed to hear… All the things Sam SHOULD'VE been saying, had she not been the enemy in this situation. So, I listened.  
I'm hanging out with Izzy and Augusta (her best friend) this Friday. They invited me to their party, and they said Sam's not invited, which is fine with me. They also said they were going to help me forget about __him__, and they were going to introduce me to some of the cute guys they knew.__I didn't invite Sam over today or yesterday. She didn't show up on Sunday, but she came over, as usual, after school yesterday, and then today. We don't even really talk. She just raids our fridge and sits on the couch with me and watches TV. She'll say stuff to Spencer, but not me. When Freddie came over, she didn't even say anything mean to him. I don't know what's up. I don't know why she even bothers coming over. She MUST know we're not best friends anymore.__Yet, for some reason, I still refer to her as my "best friend."  
I just don't get it._

_-Carly_

Sighing, Spencer quickly shut the book in his hands and slipped it back under the pillow. He felt wrong for reading her diary, but he also felt more confused. Okay, so he'd uncovered a few things he hadn't had any clue about before, but they were just bits and pieces. It was like a puzzle where all the pieces were missing and he was slowly, very slowly, finding each one and fitting it into its proper place.

Now that he wracked his memory, he recalled the time frame during and after these diary entries. He remembered noticing the sudden tension between Carly and Sam, and the indifference that was always on their faces. They hardly talked, and Carly slowly changed. By her 16th birthday, she was a different girl completely. Sam still came to her birthday party, but he remembered how she'd only talked to him and hadn't even approached Carly.

Carly and her new friends…

He got up from the bed and left his sister's room, shutting the door. He didn't want anyone else going in there, and he didn't want to be tempted to go in again.

As he took each step downstairs towards the living room, though, something Carly had said to him the night before echoed in his head, having been triggered by the new things he'd just found out.

"_You think I'm blind? 'Cause I'm __**not**__, Spencer. You're an idiot for even __**thinking**__ of getting involved with her."_

He tried his hardest to fit all of this information together in his head to a point where it somewhat made sense. But he just couldn't. There was too much he still didn't know. He needed to find out as soon as he could. If Sam went to that party tonight, though, maybe she could finally talk to Carly and they could fix whatever wedge was between them, or at least try to.

When he got downstairs, he found his cell phone sitting on the coffee table where he'd left it. He picked it up and started texting Sam.

Sam walked through her front door with dread resting at the bottom of her stomach. She stepped inside and shut the door behind her quietly, hoping to escape to her room and avoid any contact with her mother. Mrs. Puckett hadn't called her cell phone, but she knew if she had, Sam probably would've ignored the call, so she never even bothered.

Just as she'd reached the bottom of her stairs, Sam was startled by her mother's angry yell from the kitchen. "_Samantha-aaa!_"

She winced, stopping and letting her left foot rest on the bottom stair with her right foot still on the wood floor of the entrance hall. Warily, she called back, "Yeah?"

"You'd better get in here right now, young lady," her mother demanded.

With a defeated sigh, she obeyed and slowly walked into the kitchen. When she peeked around the doorframe, she saw her mother in her pajamas, making a sandwich at the counter, her blonde curls put up in a messy ponytail.

"So, you finally decided to come home, did you?" her mother said in an angry voice, not turning around as she screwed the top back onto the mayonnaise jar.

Sam sighed. "Yeah… I've been at Carly's…"

Mrs. Puckett put the mayonnaise and the other sandwich materials back into the fridge, then turned around and faced Sam, hands set on her hips in a disappointed look. "Were you out partying again?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, Mom. You can ask Spencer. I was at the apartment the whole time."

Her mother furrowed her eyebrows together, looking confused now as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You were there… with _only_ Spencer?"

Sam's breath caught in her throat, but she quickly lied, as she was so good at it and so used to it. "No… Carly was there. I mean, yeah, she left a few times to go pick up some friends and take them places, but we spent most of our time at the apartment. Spence made us dinner and then breakfast this morning, we watched some movies…"

Mrs. Puckett let out a sigh. "You say you were there all night last night?"

Sam nodded.

"Then why were there twenty-seven missed calls on the phone from Carly's house?"

Now she was at a loss for explanation. She scrambled around inside her head, trying to find a good lie or a good excuse, or anything to stall her mother, or even change the subject. How would she explain this? She couldn't just say, "Oh, yeah, me and Spencer kissed, and then Carly came home and found us and freaked out, which, I don't blame her! But it upset me, too, and I was afraid she was gonna try to get back at me again like she did last time, soooo… I kinda came home, and then Spencer called a couple dozen times looking for me, until I finally went back and slept with him, and we both realized we're in love with each other!"

No. The truth was far too complicated. She herself could barely understand the logic in it. "Well, me and Carly got into an argument over something stupid and I got mad and came home for a little while, and then she called like, a million times to try and apologize, so I finally just went back over there and we made up. I forgot to clear the phone. Sorry."

Yeah, that was believable. Or at least for now it was. Thank God she thought fast on her feet… most of the time.

Mrs. Puckett's face fell from disappointment and anger to calmer and possibly even a little sympathetic. "Oh… Well, you need to call me next time. I'm tired of not knowing where you are, Sam."

"You _know_ where I am, Mom," Sam argued.

"That's not the point. You still live _here_, and therefore you're still _my_ responsibility, not the Shays'. I need to know where you are," her mother told her sternly. "And quit ignoring my calls whenever I try to reach you on your cell phone. I didn't get you that damned thing so you could talk to all of your friends. I got it so I could keep in touch with you."

"You also told me you got it so I'd have an easier way to communicate with Carly," Sam reminded, remembering how her mother had always loved Carly and supported her and Sam's friendship, since she'd had one almost just like it when she was a teenager.

Mrs. Puckett rolled her eyes, almost identical to Sam's expression. "Yeah, yeah. The point is: I want to know where you are and that you're okay. I can't just assume you're always at Carly's. You're unpredictable, Sam. And that worries me sometimes."

"Okay. Sorry, Mom," Sam apologized, wanting to avoid getting into any more trouble and to get upstairs to her room to change and get ready for later.

"Alright. Now, with that said, what are you doing tonight?" Mrs. Puckett asked, her voice softer now.

Sam shrugged. "Going back to Carly's, spending the night again, I guess… if that's okay."

Her mother nodded, looking at her as if trying to read something on her face. "And that's all you're doing?"

Sam gave her an odd look. "Yes…?"

"It better be, Samantha. And I mean it."

She rolled her eyes again and mumbled, "I know, Mom." She then turned around and headed for the stairs, beginning to walk up them towards her room. She just wanted to change into some clean clothes already.

"Sam…"

She stopped on the step and listened.

"You know I only do this because I worry about you," her mother said softly, standing in the doorway of the kitchen now. "I just don't want to see you end up like – "

"Like Dad, I know. I won't, Mom, so quit worrying about it," Sam told her. "Can I please go change now so I can get back to Carly's?"

"Alright, go ahead!" her mother sighed, gesturing for her to hurry upstairs now. "But remember, I'll be calling you later tonight to check up, and you'd _better_ answer that phone!"

Up in her room, Sam was in the middle of putting a pair of clean jeans on when her phone vibrated from where it lay on her bed. She pulled her pants up the rest of the way, then reached over and picked up her phone: "1 New Text Message". She pressed "View" to find a message from Spencer. She found herself excited at the thought of him texting her and thinking about her when she wasn't there. She read the message:

_you need to hurry up and get back here_

She smiled to herself automatically, unable to hold it back. Did he miss her already? She texted him back and said, "y?" before continuing to rummage around her room and find a clean shirt and another clean outfit for her overnight bag.

When her phone vibrated again, she rushed to it and pressed "View" once more:

_just hurry, i'll tell you when you get here_

She rolled her eyes, then texted back stubbornly, "if u dont give me a good reason, im gonna take my sweet time… mom just made ham sandwiches".

She emptied her plaid book bag of the few contents in it and left them on the bed, then stuffed the clothes she'd gathered inside, as well as her copy of _Havemercy_ (just in case – she never knew when she'd get the urge to sit down and read). She found her brush sitting on her dresser and picked it up, running it through her curls a few times quickly to get the tangles out from the shower she'd taken, then tossed it into the book bag as well, along with a couple of other hair products, like bobby pins and whatnot, before zipping it up. Her phone vibrated again. The newest text said:

_i found something i probably shouldn't have, but we need to talk, so hurry!_

Sam's eyes widened a little, and she texted back a simple, "ok" before throwing the bag over her shoulder and leaving her bedroom, grabbing up her phone charger on the way out. As she made her way down the stairs and out the front door, the possibilities of what Spencer could've found raced through her head. Had he found something incriminating against her? Was she in trouble now? Was he disappointed? Or had Carly done something else bad?

She figured there was only one way to find out, as she climbed aboard the bus that had stopped at the corner, and headed back to Bushwell Plaza.

**to be continued…**

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A/N: **Aren't you guys proud of me?? I updated so soon! =]] I've been getting hella inspiration for this story, and all these new ideas keep coming up as I get deeper and deeper into the plot, so I'm trying to add them all in there and put it all together so it makes sense and flows. Does everything make sense and fit together so far?  
Oh, and just so you know, this is set probably around November/December 2009. Guessing that Carly and Sam were 15 in 2008, they turn 16 in 2009 (Carly's birthday being in January and Sam's being in April), therefore, that makes it around a year since Carly's Sweet Sixteen. So all of these changes and everything have happened over the time period of a year. (Also, they're not NEWLY 16, they're closer to 17, really.)  
Hope that makes sense! If anything doesn't make sense, please feel free to ask, and I'll try to clear it up as best I can. Let me know what I can do to improve, etc.  
ALSO! To reply to the few comments I got wayyy back when, everyone saying, "but I thought Sam's mom didn't really care about her." Well, she does. Obviously, she used to be really slack on Sam, let her do what she wanted most of the time, but that doesn't mean she doesn't _care_. However, over the past year, she's gotten more protective and worried about her, which explains her currently. It'll make more sense later on when I reveal what happened exactly to turn her mom this way.  
So, as always, leave honest reviews if you read it. Even if all you say is "I liked it" or "I hated it", just leave SOMETHING! Thanks! Next chapter will be coming up soon!  
(Btw, I decided to change it from "Parts" to "Chapters". I didn't bother going through and changing all the headings in each chapter, but I changed the chapter names, 'cause "Parts" doesn't really make sense for a story this long. Just a small thing, but yeah.)


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

"_I see, see __shadows__ of who we used to be  
when I drive, drive so slow through this __memory__…"_

Needless to say, Sam got distracted on her way back to the Shay loft, and instead of getting there in the 10 minutes it took the bus to get there, she showed up nearly an hour later. When she walked into the apartment, she found Spencer sitting at the computer, his foot tapping nervously as he read whatever was on the monitor in front of him. He seemed anxious.

"Hey," she said, closing the door behind her and setting her bag down on the floor next to it.

He turned around, then gave her a disappointed look. "I thought you were gonna hurry…?"

"Eh, we drove by a bunch of restaurants, so I finally had to stop at a deli and get something to eat," she explained, remembering how she sat at the table in the business, bag on the floor next to her, scarfing down a ham sandwich like there was no tomorrow. She realized she probably looked like a hobo or something, but she didn't really care.

Spencer just rolled his eyes. "I see…"

She walked over and joined him at the counter, looking over his shoulder. "Why are you on the _Dr. Phyllis_ website?"

He turned back around and quickly closed out of the window, then shrugged. "I was just… looking at something."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you seriously that confused about this whole thing? You gotta go looking for advice from some fake doctor on a TV show? That lady's mental, dude."

He sighed, slouching over tiredly. "I just don't know what else to do, Sam."

"What did you find that you wanted to talk to me about?" she reminded him, walking to the couch and plopping down, setting her feet up on the coffee table.

He turned his chair around to face her. "Well, I was in Carly's bedroom and… it's not like I was looking for it or anything. I swear. I just kinda… came across it. And I couldn't help myself. I had to look inside…"

"You found her diary, huh?" Sam guessed, looking down at her nail as she picked at it.

"How'd you know?"

She shrugged casually. "I found it once, too. She's not very good at hiding it. But she caught me before I could read anything – not that I really wanted to anyway, but still – and she like, freaked out and yelled at me about leaving her personal stuff alone. I dunno. I guessed there must've been some pretty serious stuff in that book… Either that or she's just really territorial."

Spencer looked down thoughtfully. "Well, I read a couple things she wrote last November…"

Sam's eyes suddenly shot up and stared at him, looking worried now. "What… what'd they say?"

He paused, eyeing her suspiciously. Was she _guilty_ of something? "Um… she was really upset when she wrote them. The first one I read was after you guys had gone to a party and she had come home crying and wouldn't talk to me… It didn't say what exactly happened to upset her so much, but I guess that was when her grudge against you started."

Sam looked back down at her nail, but wasn't actually looking at it. She listened to what he was saying, and her heart was beating a little faster and harder than usual. "And… what'd the other one say?"

"Not much. It was pretty short, and she wasn't upset or anything in it. It just talked about her um… _new_ friends. Izzy Warner, I think? And Augusta or something like that. And how they had bad reputations, but wanted her to hang out with them, and she accepted," he explained warily. "They sounded like pretty bad kids from what she wrote… If I'd known, I never would have let her hang out with them."

Sam nodded, listening intently, feeling herself growing more and more nervous. She remembered with spite when Carly had started hanging out with the Slut Gang. But was that really all her diary had said? Or did Spencer know more than he was letting on? "So… that's all you found out?"

He shrugged casually, leaving out the details about her and about the guys Carly had escaped. "Basically. It doesn't make much more sense, though. It's just… thrown in some more confusing details and I can't figure out where they fit in this whole thing."

"Mhm," Sam made a sound of understanding, still not looking up. She didn't want to look at him, because she knew he'd see that something was up from the look in her eyes.

God, how she regretted the choices she'd made now. If she could only go back… But she couldn't. That's why she didn't argue so much with Carly. The night before had been the first time she'd spoken up since the whole attitude thing started. She knew it was her fault that Carly was acting that way – or at least she had a pretty big hunch that that was the reason – and she didn't blame her one bit for the things she was doing and the way she was acting. She just wanted things to go back to normal, and she thought that maybe… maybe if she kept acting like things were normal, they'd become that way. But they never did. Carly just drifted farther and farther away.

Carly was the _real_ best friend. She was still Sam's best friend, in Sam's eyes. She was the only person who had ever put up with Sam, but also the only person Sam trusted enough to show her vulnerable side to. Carly thought she could trust Sam the same way… and Sam had just gone and ruined it. She hated herself for doing that. But she took whatever Carly dished out, because she knew she deserved it. Back then, she didn't know, but now… now she did.

"What's up with you, Sam?" Spencer's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up quickly without thinking. "What do you mean?"

"You're acting really weird… Is there something I should know about?" he asked her seriously, secretly hoping to get some answers out of her.

She instantly shook her head. "No… I'm sorry. I'm just… worried about Carly. And about tonight. I'm really nervous about it going over like you want it to."

He gave her a sympathetic smile. He decided it was probably best to remain oblivious in this situation, at least for now. If there was something Sam regretted, he knew she'd find a way to deal with it eventually, or to tell him. "I'm sure everything will be fine. You still have a way of getting through to Carly when no one else can, I can tell. You just have to get past the wall she's been trying to build up against us."

She nodded thoughtfully, thinking to herself, _But how do I knock down a wall when it was built to keep __**me**__ out?_

There were only a couple of hours left before the party by the time things had grown awkwardly silent between Sam and Spencer. She still sat alone at the couch, and Spencer had given up talking about Carly any more. He guessed it only depressed Sam more. So, he just turned around and diverted his attention back to surfing the internet.

Sam got up and went to the fridge, pushing things aside and searching for something to eat to get her mind off things. Her stomach was turning over and over the more she thought about the party, and she dreaded the next couple of hours. She didn't want to go to this party… but she was going to force herself. For Carly… and Spencer.

Sam Puckett didn't do things she didn't want to do, but when it came to her (former) best friend and the one guy she trusted… well, she'd jump off a bridge if that's what it took to make them happy.

She wasn't looking forward to any of this, though. She was eating the last of a tub of chocolate ice cream she'd found in the freezer while staring out the kitchen window at the darkening city. She hated how early the sun set in the winter time. She hated this time of year, period. For more than one reason.

When she'd finished the ice cream, she went ahead and took her bag upstairs to Carly's bedroom, shutting the door to get some time alone to think. She set her bag down on the floor, then plopped herself down on Carly's perfectly made bed. She let out a long breath of air, then laid back, looking up at the ceiling and remembering all the long talks and laughs she and her best friend had shared in this room.

She missed those the most.

Putting her hands behind her head, she tried to relax, but found her muscles tense with dread. The last place she wanted to be was at a party. That just wasn't her anymore. She despised parties now – the environment, the people, the alcohol and drugs… but most of all, the way all of those things mixed together made people act. It made reasonable people make stupid decisions, and she'd seen fight after fight at every party she'd gone to. Friendships torn apart at the seams, and relationships pushed over the edge. High school parties were a No Man's Land. If you didn't have just the right emotional balance, you could very easily find yourself scarred or hurt after just a few cups of "punch" and a few hours of "fun."

As she moved her hand underneath the back of her head to get more comfortable, she suddenly felt something hard beneath it. She sat up and looked at where her head had been, then lifted the pillow. There sat the familiar book she'd seen many times before… Carly's beloved diary.

What had Spencer read? This question nagged at her and upset her stomach even more than it already was. Did he know something that she didn't? Or was he just waiting for her to confess to something he'd found out about?

God, she really had too many mistakes, lies, and regrets in her past. She needed to change that.

With no Carly to stop her, and curiosity pushing her movements ever harder, Sam found herself opening the disheveled pages of the diary. When her eyes landed on a random date of a random page she'd turned to – November 15th, 2008 – her breath caught in her throat. She knew exactly what had happened on this date, but she knew she didn't want to read what Carly had to say about it.

However, she couldn't stop her eyes from seeing a few select words and sentences:

_I HATE HER__!_

…_I can't stop crying._

…_I walked in and saw it with MY OWN FUCKING EYES!_

_And she __knew__ that!_

_I FUCKING TOLD HER THAT! …and I said, "Sam, I think I love him."_

_And that's when Spencer walked in. Her mood suddenly changed entirely._

…_and walking to and from both bus stops IN THE RAIN, and after she had LEFT ME back there without a word, I walk in and find her…_

_I SAW IT__!_

_OBVIOUSLY I can't trust Sam._

_Fuck her._

She cringed at each harsh word and underlined sentence her eyes ran across. She wanted to stop, she really did, but she found herself scanning the page for any sign of Carly writing about all the details of the night or not. From what she saw, she hadn't, though. She'd stopped… because it hurt too much to even write about.

_God, Sam, you are such a fucking idiot,_ she thought to herself, feeling her stomach bubbling with regret and disgust at her own poor choices.

Before she could turn the page or "accidentally" read anything else, she slammed the diary shut and shoved it back under the pillow. She groaned and wrapped her arms over her stomach, doubling over. She felt tears pressing against her eyelids, but she forced them back. Who was she to cry? If anyone had the right to feel hurt and to cry, it was Carly.

But no… Carly found other ways of expressing how much she hurt.

As she sat there with the image of Carly's face that night burning in front of her eyes, Sam realized that she really _did_ have to go through with this. She had to do her best to get through to Carly, and try to fix things. And if she couldn't fix them, she wanted to at least show Carly that she realized what she'd done, and that she regretted it more than anything. She wanted Carly to see that she was still the most important thing in Sam's life, and she wanted her to see that she wasn't like that anymore: careless, inconsiderate, impulsive, _stupid_. Yeah, she wanted her best friend back more than anything in the world, but if her best friend didn't want to come back, she wouldn't blame her. She'd understand, and she'd take the punishment she deserved.

What a stupid move… After being hurt all her life by the people she trusted – her parents – she'd always vowed to herself that she would never let someone down like that. She vowed to be the most trustworthy friend anyone could have, and when she'd gained Carly in her life, she made a silent promise to treat her with all the love and respect she deserved.

But she'd broken that. She'd shattered all of it with one bad choice, and she'd hurt someone just like her parents had hurt her. She'd _proven_ that she was nothing more than Sam Puckett: rude and careless punkass with no remorse for anyone but herself.

Well, that had to change sometime. She had to do something to fix this, and once she did (or didn't), she had to find a way of explaining everything to Spencer and hoping he understood and didn't leave her, too, like Carly had. She really had fallen in love with him. She'd (admittedly) liked him for the past year and a half, but now… she knew it was love.

Yet she felt incomplete without her best friend, who she also loved.

Standing up, Sam walked to her bag and unzipped it, rummaging around inside and pulling out makeup and a hairbrush and some other accessories. She then set to work getting ready for the party, all with the mindset that she was going to heal old wounds that night… not cause anymore.

She'd be the stitches instead of the knife tonight. Whether it was successful or not, it was worth her most heartfelt try… Damn, who was she kidding?

Carly Shay was worth _anything_ heartfelt that Sam Puckett had to give.

**to be continued…**

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A/N: **Not much going on, yet there is. I hope I'm revealing more and more with each chapter, but still leaving some questions there...? Let me know what you think.  
Also, I'd like to thank everyone who has been reviewing this story since day one. All of your words and criticisms have helped extremely, and it's your comments that give me the encouragement to keep writing. I keep getting more and more ideas for this story, and I'm excited to put it all together. I'm going to have dedications at the last chapter of this story, but that will be a while from now. Anyway, keep reading and reviewing, and I'll keep writing! :]


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

"_these __lies__ are leading me astray,  
it's too much for me to __stay__…"_

As she brushed her hair for the 10,000th time, Sam stared back at her reflection blankly. She set the brush down, then took bobby pins and pinned the sides of her hair up, like she usually did, giving an at least somewhat tame look to her full head of blonde curls. She then leaned in and touched up her makeup again. But as she was pulling back, something in the reflection caught her eye.

She turned around and looked at the picture frame on top of Carly's dusty dresser. She recognized the picture taken the summer of '08, just a few months before all this shit started. But the right half of it was missing, torn off… where Sam should've been. This struck her like a ten-ton brick.

So Carly really _did_ hate her.

She quickly turned back around and watched herself in the mirror as tears welled up in her eyes. She shut them tightly and took a deep breath, trying not to let it get to her again. But it was impossible. She'd had no idea she'd fucked up _that_ bad. Maybe Carly was really just too lost by now to be brought back.

As she stood with her eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply, Sam heard a light knock on the door. She opened her eyes and turned around in time to see it opening, and Spencer peeking his head inside. When he saw her red face, he raised his eyebrows in concern.

"You alright?"

She shut her eyes again and turned away, putting a hand to her cheek and feeling its heat. "Y-yeah. Just… getting ready."

She heard him step into the room, and felt him slowly approaching her. He stopped and put a hand on her shoulder gently.

"If you need to tell me anything or talk, Sam… I'm here. I'm all ears," he said softly.

She opened her eyes and stared down at the tattered Converse on her feet, wiggling her toes and watching the movement through the tops of her shoes. She sighed. "No, I'm fine. Really."

"Okay," he hesitantly gave in, deciding to stop trying to get any information out of her. When she was ready, she'd come to him. She always had. Why would it change now? But he still felt the need to add, "I'm not here to judge, though. So…"

His voice trailed off, and she had a bad feeling that he knew more than he should. But she wasn't going to admit to shit just yet. She was going to do all she could at that party to make amends and fix at least some things, apologize, before she'd tell Spencer anything… She wasn't going to risk losing him, because she knew he'd turn his back on her if he found out now. Not because he was a bad person, or an unreliable guy, or something like that. But because he was Carly's brother… And honestly? Sam would do the same thing if their positions were switched. It didn't matter how much she cared… If someone told her something like that, she'd probably be done with them and be unable to ever fully trust them for fear of being hurt like Carly had been.

And for those reasons, Spencer couldn't know yet.

She felt his hand lift from her shoulder, then both of his hands went to her hips, holding onto her as if to remind her he was there. She gave in and spun around, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. He almost stumbled back a bit, surprised at her sudden quick movements, but he smiled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer to him. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the strawberry-melon scent of her hair. She hugged him tighter, and he felt her breathing go to an unsteady pace. She was holding back tears, and he could tell.

"Sam… if you need to cry, you can. It doesn't matter around me. I'm not going to think any less of you," he whispered. "You don't need to prove how tough you are to me."

A few seconds after saying this, he felt her press her face tighter against him, then he felt dampness through his shirt. She was finally crying. He knew she needed to, and he wished she'd give up her "tough" reputation once in a while. Seeing the soft side of her was something rare, but it was beautiful, and he loved it. He loved every side of her.

"It's okay," he soothed, rubbing her back softly with one hand. "You know, Carly was lucky to get to see this side of you so regularly… I wish you'd trust me like you did her."

This only hurt her more. Sam shook her head against him, breathing in shakily. She didn't say anything aloud, but in her mind, she was screaming, _No! I don't DESERVE trustworthy friends! I shouldn't be able to show my vulnerable side to anyone anymore… What kind of bullshit Karma is this? I haven't gotten any of the things I truly deserve, and neither has Carly…_

After a few more minutes, Spencer took Sam by the shoulders and slowly pulled her away from him, then leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly. She roughly wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks, but her makeup was still ruined, smudged across her face. She still looked beautiful, though.

He looked down into her eyes. "C'mon… you need to finish getting ready. Do you want anything to eat or anything like that?"

She shook her head, sniffling. "N-no… thanks."

He took her face in his hands and lifted her head to look up at him. Her blue eyes met his expectantly. He leaned down and placed his lips on hers, both of their eyes closed now. He stayed there for a few moments, then pulled away, opening his eyes. She opened hers as well, looking as if she felt a little better.

"Go ahead and finish getting ready. If you need anything, I'll be right downstairs," he told her. "Come down when you're ready."

She nodded reluctantly, looking away from him now.

"Hey…"

She looked back up questioningly, raising her eyebrows.

"I love you," he whispered.

She couldn't help but let a small smile escape. "I love you, too, Spence."

He smiled, pleased, before giving her another light kiss and turning to leave. He left Carly's bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and Sam listened to his footsteps as they faded down the stairs.

She turned back to the mirror and walked over, wiping her face of the smudged makeup and applying more on carefully. She had to hold back more tears as she did so, but it was a little easier when she remembered that Spencer was right downstairs. Something about him just made her feel better, no matter what was going on.

About an hour later, it was time for Sam to leave. The party should have already started, and hopefully Carly was already there. She went downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Spencer to turn around.

He was working on the sculpture in the middle of the kitchen, which put a smile on her face, because she knew now that it was for her. When he felt her behind him, though, he stopped and turned around, a clump of papers in his hand. His eyes lit up at the sight of her and he grinned.

"Wow," he managed to say. "You look… amazing."

She blushed, smoothing down the skirt she was wearing. She didn't wear them very often, but it was a change from middle school. She wore a skirt probably a couple of times a year now.

Her outfit only accentuated the curves that Spencer had just recently noticed were there. The dark denim miniskirt stopped a few inches above her knees, and her long, milky white legs looked perfect between the skirt and the black canvas shoes she had on. She wore a snug, layered blouse that clung to her curves: a red plaid shirt over a regular, black, long-sleeved shirt. And her hair fell down over her shoulders and down her back in full, shiny, blonde curls. She didn't have much makeup on, but enough to bring out her bright blue eyes and smooth complexion.

"Do you think it looks okay for a high school party?" she asked him. She hadn't been to a party in over a year, so she wasn't sure if things had changed since her classmates had gotten older.

He nodded, his eyes wide as he kept looking her up and down. "Definitely."

She smiled, then walked to the fridge and pulled out a Peppy Cola, opening it and taking a drink.

"Just promise me something," he suddenly said, setting the clump of papers in his hand down on the counter.

She looked at him expectantly. "What's that?"

"Don't uh… drink, or anything. And if any guy is bothering you, you can always pick up the phone and call me," he told her in all seriousness, then winked a little more playfully. "I got your back."

She giggled. "Okay, will do. I don't think you have to worry, though – "

"Psh," he interrupted. "Don't try telling me that. If I were a teenage boy, I couldn't keep my hands off you."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You're not a teenage boy and you still can't…"

He stopped, then said more quietly, "Touché…"

She laughed and walked over to him, setting her soda down and wrapping her arms around him again. He pulled her closer to him, holding on tightly. He had to admit, he was starting to feel nervous about this whole thing, too.

When she pulled away, she looked up at him. "So… whose party is this anyway?"

He hesitated, trying to recall everything Freddie had said. "Uh… Connor's."

Sam's face suddenly dropped and she froze. "Connor… who?"

Spencer stepped back about half a step, eyeing her suspiciously. "I'm not sure… Reece, I think? Why?"

Her eyes looked away from his, a thoughtful look taking over her face now. "Um… no reason. I-I was just wondering."

He knew better than that, though. "Sam… what's going on?"

_Not again,_ she thought to herself. _Please, God, don't let this be just another rerun of last time. I don't even want to go to this party… I'm only doing it for her - and him._

She remained oddly silent, though, and didn't answer him. She just kept looking off to the side, as if lost in thought, a worried expression on her face. He waited patiently, but when she didn't answer, he started to get frustrated.

"Sam, come on. I feel like you're keeping something from me, and I don't understand why," he admitted to her, his voice completely serious now. "There's something wrong, and you won't tell me. Why? You've always told me everything. You can trust me…"

She just closed her eyes and shook her head, as if shaking away the bad memories that were filling her head. She knew it would all come rushing back to her full-force the minute she stepped into that all-too-familiar house. And worst of all, she couldn't tell Spencer. At least not yet. It was killing her to keep this from him, but she knew she had to.

"It's nothing, Spencer," she finally said, her voice angered. "Can we go now? I just… wanna get over there already."

He continued to look at her suspiciously, but he finally gave in, knowing she was stubborn and wouldn't tell him something if she didn't want to. He would just have to wait until she _did_ want to… "Okay. Get your stuff. I'll meet you out at the car."

She nodded and turned away, going back upstairs to Carly's room, where her stuff still was. Spencer watched her, confusion still etched across his face, before turning and grabbing his keys from the counter, then leaving the apartment and heading outside to his car.

Upstairs, Sam was going through her bag, looking to see if there was anything she might need. She stuffed the 2 five-dollar-bills she had left into her pockets, then her cell phone. She stood up and grabbed up her jacket, throwing it on. With a look of regret, she turned off the light to the room that held so many memories and left it, going downstairs and leaving the safety of the loft to meet Spencer in his car, where she hopped into the passenger seat.

He had written down the address of the party, but Sam already knew where it was, so she just gave him the quickest directions. Besides Sam telling Spencer where to drive, the whole ride was silent. She was lost in thought, listening to her own heartbeat pound in her ears and her blood pump profusely. If she were any more on edge, she'd probably have a panic attack. All she could think about was this house she dreaded even driving past, and all the people who would see her there and instantly remember what had happened last year. They'd be judging her in their heads, and whispering about her behind her back, and talking about how much of a bitch she was and how poor Carly was so pathetic to have ever been best friends with her…

God! She needed to stop thinking like this! She had to just ignore everyone and all their words, get in there, get Carly, and then get the fuck out as soon as possible. It was that easy.

_Right?_

No one would say anything to her face, because they all knew her history of violence and aggressiveness, and they'd seen what she could do to a football player that plssed her off; they didn't want to experience her anger first-hand. So, instead, they all gossiped when she wasn't around. And that only spread a bad reputation.

Sam Puckett: fighter, troublemaker, and liar.

Before she knew it, the car was pulling to a stop next to a curb. Spencer put the car in Park, then brought his hands down to his lap, waiting. He had parked 3 or 4 blocks away, so as to assure no one would see his car and rat him out.

He didn't look up at Sam as she put her hand on the door handle and pulled on it slowly. They were both looking away.

"I guess… I'll see you later," she mumbled, her eyes set on the handle in her hand.

He nodded. "Yeah. If you need anything, call me, alright? I can get over here in less than five minutes if I have to."

She nodded, smiling a little to herself. "Okay… Thanks, Spence."

He finally looked over at her. "No, thank _you_. Even if this doesn't work, Sam… you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Just knowing that we at least tried to get her back… it makes it a little easier."

She swallowed to push away the knot forming in her throat, blinking. "Well, it's not just for you. It's for her, too. I think everything would be better if she were around again."

"I agree," he said softly, smiling weakly. "Well, uh… good luck. Call me whenever you're ready, okay? I'll be up until you call."

She nodded again. "Okay." She pushed open the car door and was about to step out onto the sidewalk when he spoke up again.

"Hey…"

She stopped and turned around, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too."

And with that, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned around, shutting the car door and giving Spencer one last wave before he drove off. She then turned in the direction of the house and began walking down the sidewalk. There were already probably 20 cars parked up and down the street in front of the familiar home, and you could hear the music and excited voices from a couple of blocks away. Lucky for them, it was a neighborhood where no one really cared what went on, because most of the neighbors were younger adults who had parties every weekend, too, so the cops were never called.

When she made it just a block away from the house, Sam noticed the familiar, expensive car parked across the street… Izzy Warner's car. Which could mean only one thing…

Carly and her entire gang of "friends" were present at this party.

_Great,_ Sam thought. _As if it wasn't bad enough, now I've got an entourage to get past. Well, fuck me, right?_

**to be continued…**

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A/N: **Yeah, I keep leaving you guys with cliffhangers! :] Hehe. But hey, it's leading up to something important, so just bear with me! I _promise_ it'll be worth your time. The REAL action starts next chapter ;] Leave reviews!


	10. Chapter X

**A/N: **Okay, guys, here we go! =] The action starts, like I promised! This chapter kind of jumps from watching over Sam to watching over Carly and back again, but I think it's pretty easy to understand and you shouldn't get lost on those parts. I'm updating constantly now! Hopefully I can keep this up, 'cause I'm pretty excited about where this is going. Anyway, be sure to tell me what you think!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything associated with _iCarly_ or the paragraph of lyrics (which are property of 3OH!3), but I do own Izzy Warner, Augusta, Kyle P., Jeremy W., Jarrod O., Christian T., Nathan, and Kayla. :] (Fun fact: All but one of the OC's introduced in this chapter are names of real-life friends and ex-boyfriends... ha!)

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**Chapter X**

"_best friends means __I__ pulled the trigger…"_

Sam followed a large crowd of seniors into the familiar house. As soon as she walked through the open door, the loud sound of music and voices filled her ears, and the smoke in the room invaded her nostrils and made her eyes burn. The smells of vodka and layered-on perfume and cologne were present as well. She walked in the opposite direction as the crowd she'd followed in, her eyes searching throughout the room, trying to pick out familiar faces in the crowds and groups of huddled teenagers. Laughter bounced off the walls, and everyone had to nearly yell to be heard over the obnoxious rap music that was emanating throughout the house.

She was on the lookout for anyone who might recognize or snitch on her. No one was even glancing in her direction, though, all of them too preoccupied by alcohol and hormones. She wondered if all teenage parties in other cities were like this. Or were Seattle kids just extra out-of-control and wealthy?

She tried to blend in with everyone else, and figured it wouldn't be too hard since the rooms were dim and smoky. The scent of marijuana wafted up to her nose, and she cringed. It brought back bad memories, and she hoped she wouldn't see it.

No one was looking at her yet. Her eyes scanned the room nervously. When she made it out of the living room and into the crowded dining room, her heart started racing… there they were: Izzy, Augusta, and Carly. They were standing with a group of boys, drinks in their hands, and they were giggling at every little joke. Carly was all made up like the other 2 girls. She looked skanky. The girls had turned her into one of them: too much makeup and not enough clothes, flaunting how much money they had. Sam narrowed her eyes, but quickly ducked back behind a group of preps. She turned her body so that she could still watch Carly and her friends, but if they looked her way, they wouldn't see enough of her to recognize her.

But for some reason, Sam had the odd feeling that she was being watched…

Carly laughed along with her friends, taking another sip of her beer. She still hated the taste, but it was the weakest thing she could drink and get away with. Izzy and Augusta wouldn't even allow her to not drink at a party. She guessed it was because they didn't want to feel stupid or feel like Carly was in charge of them or something.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Freddie, who was glancing around a little nervously, but then turned back to face her with a smirk.

"Yeah?"

"Guess who's here," he said lowly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Seriously? She actually showed?"

He nodded, proud. "Yep. I just saw her. She's over there…"

Carly was about to turn her head to look where Freddie had just nonchalantly gestured, but he stopped her. "Don't look! She doesn't know we're onto her, and I don't wanna risk it. Just trust me… she's watching you guys, and I think she's waiting to get you alone so she can talk to you or something."

She nodded, trying to keep her eyes focused on Freddie. "Spencer's not here, is he?"

He shook his head. "No. But Nathan's ready. He's got the drink mixed. All I have to do is give him the word."

Carly didn't hesitate. "Do it."

He smirked in satisfaction. "Alright."

"And it doesn't smell like alcohol or anything, right?" she asked.

He shook his head confidently, assuring her, "Nope. It smells like fruit punch, I swear. He showed it to me and I even tasted it. It doesn't even taste like it or anything. He made it perfectly."

Carly gave a small smile. "Good. Tell him to do it whenever he wants. I'm ready."

Freddie nodded obediently. "Awesome. Are the other guys ready?"

"Yep. Ready and waiting for my text," she told him, holding up her PearPhone for emphasis.

"Okay. I'll go tell him now," he told her, then leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the cheek before rushing off, pushing through the crowds of people to get to the kitchen, where Nathan was waiting.

Carly watched him until he disappeared into the other room, smiling to herself and thinking proudly, _Oh, Sam, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into…_

Sam was lurking around crowds of people, still keeping an eye on Carly and trying not to be noticed. She had just watched her and Freddie have a conversation before Freddie kissed her on the cheek and left towards the kitchen. She guessed Carly was either actually dating him, or just using him at her pleasure. Either way, he seemed like a servant to her anymore.

She was still watching Carly and her group of friends, hoping Izzy and Augusta would walk away soon, when someone touched her arm, startling her. She gasped, jumping. She spun around, her hand balled into a fist and ready to punch someone, but stopped. It was just Nathan.

"Sam!" he greeted with a grin, a red cup in his hand.

"Oh, hey, Nate," she greeted him, smiling weakly. "What's up?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Nothing. What's up with you? I mean, I haven't seen you outside of school in forever, dude. What're you doing here?"

She shrugged casually, glancing quickly in Carly's direction before keeping her eyes locked on Nathan. "Oh, I dunno. I've been caught up at home, ya know… My mom started freaking out and becoming overprotective and everything. But she finally let me out for a night, so I figured, why not? There's nothing better to do. So what're you doing here?"

He nodded, listening to her. "Just the usual. Partying my ass off, about to go get stoned," he laughed, and she laughed with him, trying to act casual. "But yeah. Hey, do you want something to drink? You look kinda bored standing over here!"

"Eh, not really," she said skeptically. "I'm not really looking to get shit-faced tonight. I just kinda wanted to hang out with some people."

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes lighting up. "Well, here! This doesn't have any alcohol in it, I just got it. I can go get another one for myself."

He held his cup out for her to take. She eyed it suspiciously, then took it, still examining it. "No alcohol in it?"

He shook his head. "None. I don't like to drink before I smoke, dude. I usually only drink _after_ I get high. It makes you less sick."

She nodded, figuring that was a legit reason, and he was a legit guy to begin with. Nathan had always been a part of the "neutral" crowd – the kids who got along with every clique, and that included Carly, Sam, and Freddie, even after Carly and Sam's falling-out – so she really had no reason not to trust him. How much harm could the kid be, anyway? So, she held the cup with more confidence, then lifted it to her lips, secretly smelling it before taking a drink. It smelled like Honolulu Punch, and from the small sip she took, tasted like it, too. Her mouth was dry from nervousness and all the smoke in the room, so she took a few more, bigger drinks, downing half the cup in less than 20 seconds.

Nathan smiled, watching her. "See?" he laughed. "I told you it was non-alcoholic, dude. It's just Honolulu Punch."

She laughed, rolling her eyes knowingly. "Yeah, yeah."

"Well, I'm gonna go get another drink and look for my girlfriend. I'll catch you later, cool?" he told her.

She nodded. "Alright, sounds good."

"Hey, let me know if you wanna smoke with me later. I've got plenty," he added a little more quietly. "But don't tell anyone else that."

She chuckled lightly at that. "Okay, thanks, dude. Hey, tell Kayla hi for me."

"'Kay, will do," he agreed, giving her another smile before walking off and disappearing in the crowd, heading for where he'd left his girlfriend.

Sam sighed, taking another drink. She'd drank about half of what she had, but the cup had been completely full, so she still had a ways to go. She was glad, though, because she was parched, and continued to take drinks from it.

After a few minutes of standing alone casually, sipping on her drink, it was weird… She knew the drink was non-alcoholic, and she hadn't done anything else that could make her feel this way, but she was feeling a little… _buzzed_.

_No,_ she told herself. _This shit's in my head. It must be from the weed smoke or something._ _I haven't smoked in so long,_ _I'm probably getting contact high from just standing here._

However, she found herself straying away from her position and wandering around the party, losing herself in the crowds of unknown faces. She continued to steadily take drinks from her trusty red cup, and as she did so, she also continued to feel more buzzed… and more buzzed… and tipsy… And then those last drops hit her tongue. She pulled the cup away and looked down at the red-lined, empty bottom in disappointment. She didn't realize it at the time, but now… she was full on _drunk_.

If she had been sober, she probably would've been asking herself, _What the hell was in that?_

But she wasn't. Instead, she was asking herself, _Where can I get more? I'm sooooo thirsty! Where's Nathan?!_

She continued wandering around, but now with a destination in mind. The cup in her hand hung at her side as she stumbled around a bit, bumping into a few doorways and a couple of people. She apologized profusely to the unrecognizable faces, a few of them even saying in worry, "Sam? What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

She didn't listen, though. By the time they'd realized who she was and that something was wrong with her, she had wandered off and disappeared behind another 10 people.

Finally, after what felt like forever of searching, she found the kitchen. There weren't as many kids in there as there were in the living room and the dining room, but it was still loud and the floor was stickier than in any other room. The table on the other side of the room held a group of football players and drunken girls, all of whom were playing some version of strip poker. Standing at the island in the middle of the tiled floor, though, was Nathan, the exact guy Sam had been searching for. His girlfriend stood loyally at his side, smiling and sipping her drink as he talked to her and poured more ingredients into the messy blender that sat on the wooden top of the island.

Sam made it to the island, where she set her empty cup down and rested her hands on the smooth wood, leaning against it. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward, taking her cup and holding it out to Nathan. He looked at her questioningly at first, then gave a smirk when he saw the state she was in. Kayla just looked on with raised eyebrows, not saying anything.

"Nathan!" Sam said a little louder than was necessary. "Whatever this is, it is fucking DE-LISH-ISSS! I want more!"

"I told you, Sam, it's just Honolulu Punch," Nathan said smoothly.

Sam shook her head, acting like a small child at this point. "Whatever! There's something else in it, but I don't even care! I just want MORE!"

He rolled his eyes, taking her cup from her. "It _is_ my secret mix of super amazing fruit drinks…"

Sam raised her eyebrows in interest. "You, sir, are going to have to give me the recipe for this super amazing concoction sometime… But right now, get to makin', maestro!"

Nathan laughed, emptying out the blender into a few people's waiting cups. He then took a few bottles out from the cabinet underneath the island, setting them down next to the blender. Sam knew she recognized those bottles, and she was about to grab one to look at the label, but instead, she turned around and got caught up staring at the table of half-naked football players.

While she was staring off into space, Nathan poured generous amounts of each of the liquids into the blender, adding some other fruit juices, then put the lid on it and pressed a button, holding it down while it mixed. Kayla watched him with raised eyebrows, but he only gave her a mischievous smile. She smiled back, eyes gleaming.

After he stopped the blender, he poured the concoction into Sam's waiting cup, filling it to nearly the brim, like it had been earlier. Kayla handed him another empty red cup, and he filled that as well. He still had some left over after that, so she handed him one more and he emptied out the blender into the cup before setting it back in its holder.

"Yo, Sam!" he said loudly, getting Sam's attention. She spun her head around, blinking. She blinked a few more times, realizing her eyes were watering or something, because it was getting harder to see clearly. He held out the full red cup to her, and she focused everything on keeping her hand steady as she slowly took the cup from him. He smiled as he watched her bring it to her lips once again and take a large gulp.

Sam gulped down the fruity juice until she had to stop for air. She breathed a little harder, blinking again. It seemed as if her mouth only kept getting drier and drier. She took another drink, and then another.

"C'mon, Sam! Don't be a pussy!" Nathan said loudly, smiling. "Chug that shit!"

She looked at him for a second, then shrugged and stood back away from the island, putting the ¾-full cup to her lips again and drinking it, without stopping this time.

Nathan quickly got the others in the kitchen to join in, and soon, all of the teenagers that inhabited the kitchen – even the half-naked football players and girls at the table – were chanting loudly, "CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!"

The cheers made Sam's heart pump, and she felt her face growing hotter and hotter. She obeyed, though, and kept chugging, not stopping. Before she knew it, she'd made it to the bottom, and the very last of the red liquid disappeared behind her lips. She swallowed it down, then took the cup away from her lips and slammed it down on the wooden top of the island in triumph, letting out a refreshed, and proud, breath. Her head was spinning faster than she could keep up with now, but it didn't matter. All she knew was that there were tons of kids around her, all their attention on her, chanting for _her_, and she wanted to impress them. The adrenaline rushing through her body now was sending the alcohol through her bloodstream even faster than normal.

Nathan laughed, clapping his hands. Everyone else cheered drunkenly, clapping as well. Sam took a bow, almost falling over, but grabbing onto the island and steadying herself, standing back up right. She looked to Nathan expectantly.

"Well?" she asked, her words slurring. "More, Mister Nathan!"

He watched her in amusement, still laughing as he handed over the second full cup. She took it from him greedily, spilling a little over the top and down the side, where it landed on the sleeve of her shirt. She didn't notice, though, because by then, she had the cup to her lips and was tipping her head back once again, working on draining it. Everyone started chanting again, some of them laughing at how inebriated Sam was getting. But they were all only encouraging her, and she didn't even notice how drunk she was getting.

Standing at the doorway opposite of the one Sam had stumbled through was Carly, unnoticed by most around her. She stood close to the wall, watching with pleased and mischievous eyes as her former best friend was getting drunker and drunker by the second.

Everything was going as planned.

She looked away from the sight of Sam chugging down and finishing another cup to the phone in her hands. She began texting:

_she'll b dne n here soon. i'll let u no where she goes. she's shit faced!! ;)_

When she finished, she then sent the message to the selected names in her phonebook: Kyle, Jeremy, Jarrod, and Christian. Within 30 seconds, she got texts back from all of them:

_From: Kyle P.  
Message: awsme i'll b waiting_

_From: Jeremy W.  
Message: sweet!_

_From: Jarrod O.  
Message: ok cool_

_From: Christian T.  
Message: k :)_

She smiled to herself, putting her phone back in her pocket and looking up to see Sam finishing off the last cup of the mixed drink. This was going to be the best night so far…

After Sam had finished off all the cups, and everyone had gone back to what they were previously doing, she told Nathan she was going to the bathroom and stumbled her way out of the kitchen. She walked through the living room, blinking repeatedly and trying not to fall over as she carefully made it past the big screen TV sitting against the wall and the rack of DVD's. She finally stumbled to the door, where she grabbed onto the handle and pulled it open unsteadily, then stepped outside, focusing all of her attention on closing it properly before turning back around and going to the edge of the porch. She fell down to her knees on the hard wood of the porch. It dug into her knees and calves and she could feel the cold wood against her skin, but it was as if the nerves in the rest of her body weren't connected to the nerves in her brain, because none of this registered as uncomfortable or painful. Or maybe she just didn't care enough for it to affect her…

Her head was spinning faster than she could keep up. She shut her eyes tightly, tired of trying to keep them clear and stop the burning. She groaned aloud before doubling over, her hands clutching the edge of the cold porch. Her blonde hair hung down like a curtain as she bent over, praying she would throw up. Sure, those drinks had tasted like heaven, but now she felt like dying. Her stomach turned over and over again, and her heart kept beating faster and faster. For some reason, even out in the cold, there was sweat on her face, and she felt her shirt clinging to her sweaty back and chest. She wanted to take her shirt off, but didn't even have the energy. The hair that wasn't hanging down around her face was sticking to the back of her sweaty neck.

She wanted to puke her guts up, but couldn't. And for some reason, she felt like there was something she had to do that was really important, but she couldn't remember what it was for the life of her.

Images were racing through her head, but not once did Spencer cross it.

Carly had stood at the doorway to the dining room and watched Sam stumble her way out the front door. She figured she was either going to try to walk home, or she was going outside to puke. She bet more on the latter, though.

Once again, she pulled out her cell phone and quickly texted the 4 boys, her fingers flying across the keys:

_she's outsde prolly on the porch. its time boys!!! :))_

And again, she received replies in no time:

_From: Kyle P.  
Message: we're all meeting out thre rite nw_

_From: Jeremy W.  
Message: here we go!_

_From: Jarrod O.  
Message: yep :)_

_From: Christian T.  
Message: o yeaaaa im on my way! ;))_

One minute, Sam was alone on the porch outside, letting the cool air hit her face and trying to puke up whatever was poisoning her stomach. Then, next thing she knew, there were 4 boys standing around her. She looked up curiously, her vision blurring. Somewhere in her subconscious, she knew she was completely trashed, drunker than she'd ever been before in her life, and she knew that whatever Nathan had given her had definitely _not_ been "just Honolulu Punch." But that part of her subconscious was currently buried by the drunk part of her brain that was in charge right now. And even though she couldn't recognize these boys, and couldn't even if she _wanted_ to because of how blurry her vision was and how nothing around her would stay steady, she didn't feel scared or suspicious. She just wanted to know what was up.

"Uh… heyy," she greeted, her words slurring worse than ever.

Kyle smirked to his friends. "Hey there, Sam. You alright?"

She shook her head, looking back down to the ground that was below the porch. "No… I need to puke, but I… can't…"

"Well, hey, we'll help ya out," Jarrod offered.

"Yeah, dude, we've got some _hella_ good weed that can get rid of _any_ sick feelings you have," Jeremy assured her in a more hushed voice.

She looked up, intrigued now. "You do?"

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, we do. We weren't gonna smoke with anybody else, but if you wanna join us…"

Sam smiled, not noticing the taller boy kneeing down beside her on her other side. "I'd like that…"

"Okay, well, here, we'll help you up, and then you can come with us," Christian, the boy kneeling beside her on her other side, spoke up, carefully taking her arm. "And we'll go get _really_ high."

Sam smiled again, looking to where Christian was trying to help her up. She obeyed and stood up carefully, letting him guide her. Jeremy then walked around and took her other arm, and Kyle and Jarrod led the way back to the front door. Kyle held it open while Christian and Jeremy slowly guided Sam inside, Jarrod trailing behind them.

The sounds that hadn't been so bad earlier were now flooding Sam's head and ears. Her eyes burnt 10 times worse from the smoke, and none of the smells registered anymore. She tried to walk steadily, but she probably would've fallen down or broken something by now if the boys weren't helping her walk.

"_So tell me baby, pretty baby,  
That this house is not a graveyard,  
Tell me how to stay strong and carry you home,  
Over corpses of her long-lost fathers  
And her unborn daughters,  
God damn it, I just can't do it alone  
I can't do it alone,  
I can't do it alone,  
No, I can't do it alone…"_

The words that blared from the stereo filled Sam's head like never before, and she almost wanted to drop down right there and go to sleep. But the boys continued leading her. She didn't realize until halfway up that they were going up the stairs, her feet stumbling over every other step. The words from the loud song faded away. Her ankles hurt and her toes were sore, but it didn't really matter at the moment.

They finally made it to the second floor, where the boys now led her down a hallway and to the very last door. Kyle opened it and walked in, turning on the light and letting them bring Sam in before closing it behind all of them.

Sam's eyes had been half-closed this whole time, but now she opened them and looked around, feeling queasy again. She felt no emotions, really, besides sleepiness. The alcohol had eaten up any other feelings she might normally be having at this point. The room they were in was a bedroom, with a large, king-sized bed in the middle of the room and a dresser sitting against the wall across the room. There was a door to a closet a few feet in front of Sam, and nightstands on either side of the bed. The boys carefully brought her to the bed and helped her sit down. Instead of sitting down, though, she collapsed into the soft fabric of the comforter, closing her eyes. Her blonde hair spread out around her head, and she was still sweaty.

She felt rough hands carefully taking hold of the zipper at the top of her jacket and sliding it down, then one of the other boys carefully lifted her up for a moment, holding her up while the other slipped her jacket off each arm and then off of her completely, tossing it to the floor. She collapsed back down again, feeling air reaching her neck and arms like it hadn't been able to before and feeling relieved.

"Thank you… for taking that off," she mumbled slurred words. "It's so hot…"

"Yeah, no problem, babe," Christian soothed, brushing some hair out of her face.

"Wh-where's the weed?" she managed to ask, blinking against the bright light that shone down from the ceiling above her.

"We're getting it. Just relax and hold on a minute," Jeremy told her.

"Yep, I'm getting the pipe and I'm gonna load a bowl right now," Kyle assured, going over to the closet and opening the door, disappearing inside for a moment and starting to bring out something fairly large.

Sam had to close her eyes again, though, so she didn't see what he was bringing out. Her eyelids felt so heavy, yet she wasn't sleepy. She just had no energy, and she didn't even want to move. The entire situation brought back memories of all the nights she used to spend like this, except they were always with a very loyal Carly by her side.

That was it! _Carly!_ She was supposed to talk to Carly!

"What…"

But she couldn't form a sentence anymore, because it took too much energy to move her lips. She felt those same rough hands slipping off her shoes to reveal her bare feet, and she began wondering to herself why exactly they were stripping her… and where was Carly, anyway?

But before she could find any answers or ask any more questions, the alcohol finally took over her body and mind completely.

And she blacked out.

**to be continued…**


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI**

"_best friends means you get what you __deserve__…"_

Carly had stood by, a careful distance away, and watched as the boys led Sam upstairs to carry out the plan. After a few minutes, she went up after them. She found the room they were supposed to be in, which happened to be the room that used to make her cringe just seeing it from the bad memories it brought back, and pressed her ear to the door. She could hear them shuffling around and pulling the tripod out of the closet, and she could hear the squeaks from the bed as they did whatever they were currently doing to Sam.

She smiled to herself, thinking, _Time to feel my pain, Sam. This is the only way I know to get back at you, because obviously Karma isn't going to do it for me._

When she heard incoherent babbling coming from Sam, she knew she'd blacked out. She had partied with Sam too many times in the past, and knew all too well her cycle of getting drunk, blacking out, and eventually passing out. She knew how to recognize when she had crossed that line; the line where she was still conscious, but she wouldn't remember anything and it wasn't really _her_ in control of her own body as much as it was the alcohol.

Taking a deep breath, Carly quietly knocked on the door 3 times, then stood back and waited. The boys quickly shushed up and someone got Sam to be quiet, then the door opened a crack, and Kyle stuck his head out. He looked relieved when he saw it was just Carly.

"Oh, hey, Carly," he greeted with a smile. "'Sup?"

She smiled back. "Nothing. I noticed you guys got her up here… How's it going?"

He shrugged casually, then opened the door a little more and let her slip inside, quickly closing it behind her. "Well, she's really fucking trashed. Like, we didn't expect her to be _this_ trashed. But it's cool."

Carly nodded, watching with gleaming eyes as Christian positioned a half-naked Sam on the bed. She was wrapping her arms around him in her drunken state, hanging all over him as if she'd known him forever. She didn't even notice Carly was in the room.

"You ready for me to get a little video?" Carly asked with a smirk.

Christian turned to her, then smiled. "Sure. Just uh… don't get my face in it."

She nodded, then turned and opened the door, stepping out into the hall and pulling it closed. She left it open just a crack and instructed them, "Okay, just act like I'm not here. It's gotta look convincing, like I just found Sam being all slutty or whatever."

Christian nodded, then positioned himself over Sam, his shirt already off, and made sure his back was towards Carly. Then he leaned down and began kissing Sam. She pulled away a little at first, but then she gave in, and her hormones soon took over for her absent mind.

Carly stood behind the door and held her PearPhone up, going into CAMERA mode, and aimed it at the scene on the bed. The other boys stood aside and stayed quiet. She pressed REC and let it record 30 seconds of Sam sliding her hands all over the half-naked boy's body and kissing him, her face obviously recognizable to the camera. She didn't even look that drunk in the video either.

Soon, the phone stopped recording and held a new 30 seconds of incriminating footage. Carly grinned to herself, pressing SAVE and saving the video onto her phone. She stuck her head into the room.

"Thanks, guys," she said. "Now, as you were."

They nodded, smirks on their faces, and Carly turned and left her former best friend at the hands of 4 devious boys, the sound of the door shutting and locking reaching her ears as she made her way down the hall and towards the stairs.

Now it was time to show Sam just how serious she was about not getting involved with Spencer.

Carly parked her car in front of Bushwell Plaza not half an hour later, turning it off and getting out. She pressed the automatic lock button, then walked up to the building and entered the lobby. The doorman's desk was empty… Lewbert had been abandoning his position a lot more lately. But she ignored it and went to the elevator, where she pressed the UP button and waited as it came down to her.

Soon enough, she found herself standing in the elevator, feeling nervous as it took her upstairs to the home she'd just recently abandoned and the brother she'd told off.

Spencer stood in the kitchen, staring at his unfinished sculpture with critical eyes. He didn't know what to do to it now, and honestly didn't really care at this point. He was worried. This was only something to try to get his mind off things, but it wasn't working. Sam hadn't called or even texted and it had been over 2 hours. He wondered if she was okay, or maybe she was just caught up in a conversation with Carly… He hoped so.

He was startled out of his thoughts, though, by the sound of the elevator rattling up to the apartment. He spun around and watched with curious eyes, waiting expectantly. His heart had leapt up to his throat in anticipation. He prayed the doors would open to reveal Sam, hopefully with Carly in tow.

But when the doors shakily opened, that wasn't what he saw at all. Instead, he saw, to his surprise, Carly standing alone, purse hanging off her arm, all made up like those girls she hung out with now. He cringed at the sight of the clothes she had on, and again wondered how he could've let her get this out-of-hand.

She stepped out of the elevator and it closed behind her. She sighed and gave Spencer a look he couldn't quite interpret as he just stared at her expectantly, unsure of what to say.

"What… Carly?" he managed to stutter out.

She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Obviously… Listen, Spence, I'm sorry about everything, okay? I – "

"What do you mean, you're _sorry_? You think that's gonna make up for everything?" he immediately snapped back, catching her off guard. He started going off on her, unable to stop himself and hold back all the anger and frustration he felt. "Carly. Shay. You _know_ better! You disobey me, backtalk me, go against the few rules I have for you, _run away_, leaving me with _no idea_ as to _where_ the hell you could _possibly_ be… Do you know how worried I've been? I'm worried sick, Carly! I don't know if you're okay, if you're safe, who you're with… How am I supposed to trust those friends of yours?! And then you come back and apologize and think that will fix everything? You think you're not gonna be in any trouble for all this?!"

Carly was taken aback. She froze and let his angered words flow over her, staring at him the whole time. When he finished, she sighed. "Listen, I know I fucked up… big time. But I can explain… I can explain all of it."

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, doubtfully. "Oh you can, can you?"

She nodded, a pleading look on her face. "Yes. See… I know this has kinda been going on since my sixteenth birthday… But you don't understand. Something happened and I-I just couldn't trust Sam anymore. And if I couldn't trust her, I didn't know _who_ the hell I could trust. I felt hurt and lost, Spence… So I turned to these girls who offered to help me and I guess I… I got caught up in their whole little lifestyle or clique or whatever… All my anger and frustration built up and… I ended up taking it out on you…"

"You think that's an excuse? Sam didn't do anything to you, Carly! She hasn't been anything but a best friend since the day you met! And all you did was abandon her and leave the both of us feeling left behind," he said angrily.

"Bullshit," Carly muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said BULL. SHIT," she replied in anger, her voice getting a little louder. "Spencer, you don't _know_ the real Sam, okay?! She stabbed me in the back and then expected me to just… not care! She fucked me over, and then, to top it all off, she went off and started getting involved with you, seducing you and shit! I tried to tell you not to get involved with her, because it's the dumbest fucking thing you can do, but no, you wouldn't listen to me; you'd rather listen to Sam, the _liar_! She hasn't done shit for me in the last year but hurt me and betray me!"

Spencer stood there, a little shocked. He said more quietly, "What're you talking about, Carls?"

She groaned in frustration, throwing her hands up and turning around, her back facing him. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sighed, trying to calm down.

"Carly… Just explain to me what Sam could've possibly done that was so bad that she deserved to be treated the way you've been treating her," Spencer insisted.

Carly spun around and finally yelled out, "SHE TOOK MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND, OKAY?!"

He narrowed his eyes in confusion, waiting for her to go on, but she hung her head, wiping a tear away from one of her eyes. She sniffled.

"What… what happened, Carls? What d'you mean, she took your boyfriend?" he encouraged her to go on, the diary entry coming back to mind. Was he finally going to finish the puzzle he'd been agonizing over?

She lifted her head and stared back at him, her eyes teary. Anger was thick in her voice. "That boy I was dating last November… Connor? The one I was with for over six months?"

He nodded, assuring her he knew who she was talking about. He was a good kid, he remembered, and seemed to make Carly the happiest she'd ever been.

"Yeah, well, me and Sam and Connor went to a party at Tyler's one night, and you told us to be home by three," she started explaining, still angry and upset at the memories. "We weren't there for an hour when she left me. I had gone into this room with a couple of creepy ass boys. Sam told me to go in there with them and wait for her, 'cause she wanted to smoke weed with them or whatever, and she said she was gonna go to Twenty-Four/Seven with Connor, 'cause he had a car, to get a cigar or whatever to roll a blunt. They told me to just hang out at the party with the boys and wait for them, so I did. Yeah, well, an hour went by, and they still hadn't come back. The boys were smoking weed, and I just kinda sat there, all awkward and shit. An hour and a half goes by, and still nothing from Sam _or_ Connor. I texted them, called them… they didn't answer. Then, these boys started doing things… They started like, holding me down and stuff, saying they were just 'playing around with me', but it felt so wrong. Then they started trying to get me to take my shirt off and stuff, and… I knew they were gonna do something if I didn't get out of there soon. So, somehow, I managed to get out, and I ended up walking to the bus stop by myself, in the rain at eleven o'clock at night, might I add, and I took it to Connor's house, hoping he'd be there or something. Well, he was…"

She stopped and took in a long, shaky breath, trying to keep from crying. Remembering what had happened was obviously bothering her deeply, and it hurt her more than Spencer had realized. His heart ached at the site of his hurt little sister, and he felt angrier hearing about these boys from her own mouth.

"I… I walked in to Connor's house and no one was home, but his car was outside," she went on, her voice quieting in pain. "I heard some voices upstairs, so I went up and I saw a light on in his room. I went to the door and pushed it open and… and…"

She stopped, shutting her eyes tightly and covering her face with her hands. "And what, Carly?" Spencer urged her to go on, hanging on her every word.

"And they were there!" she forced out, bringing her face out of her hands, but keeping her eyes shut. "He and Sam were there, smoking weed together, and making out… His shirt was off, and there were hickeys on his chest and neck and stuff, and her hair was all messy and they were both sweaty and… ugh! I freaked. I screamed at Sam, asking her how she could leave me back at that party by myself, and then go off and cheat with my boyfriend behind my back. She started yelling back, and I thought she'd hit me, but she never did… She's never laid a hand on me, I'll give her that much… But then, I was so mad and upset and confused… I slapped her. I slapped her really hard across the face. She just kinda… stood there and stared at me, like she couldn't believe I'd done it. Then… then I screamed at her and told her I hated her, and I left. But… Connor looked like he didn't even care, and it hurt _so fucking much_! I loved him… I had told her that three days before, too, and-and she'd acted like she didn't even care or something… He was my _first love_!"

She paused and sniffled again, opening her eyes and taking in another shaky breath before finishing. "I-I ran back to the bus stop and took the bus home… I didn't hear from her the next day. Not a phone call or anything. She didn't even talk to me at school that Monday, she just kinda followed me around like she always does, but she didn't talk or anything. Then she showed up here after school and… ever since, it's been like a routine of being best friends, except… we're really _not_ best friends. She's never apologized or even mentioned that night ever since it happened. And Connor hasn't talked to me since either…"

When she was finally done, Carly broke down crying, unable to hold it back anymore. She buried her face in her hands and bawled, her body wracking with sobs, the memories haunting her once again. Spencer just stared at her in awe, almost unable to believe what she was saying. But he'd read the diary entry… he knew she wouldn't lie about something like that… And honestly, it all kind of made sense…

"Carls… I-I'm so sorry," he managed to say in barely a whisper.

She just shook her head and turned away from him, still crying.

"Carly, please believe me… If I'd known any of this…"

She suddenly spun around and looked at him, mascara running down her cheeks and her face flushed. She had pulled her PearPhone out of her pocket and held it up for him to see. "Just believe me on this, Spencer… please…"

He stared at it for a moment, perplexed. There was an image on the screen, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. "Wh-what do you mean?"

She stepped closer, bringing the phone back down and looking at it in her hands. She sniffled, then pressed PLAY on the video and handed it to him.

"I… _caught_ her… again," she mumbled shortly. "At the party… I-I'm sorry, Spence…"

He held it in his hands and stared in confusion at the recorded scene. For 30 seconds, he stared, wide-eyed and blank-faced…

Was that really Sam… with another guy? The night after they'd shared something so special and amazing… She was acting like Spencer didn't even exist…?

When the video ran through and finally stopped, he still stared at it, perplexed, frozen on the last image of Sam's lips against this unknown boy's, her shirt off as she lay underneath the half-naked boy. He tried to comprehend it all, but his mind was going a mile a minute, and so was his heart. He didn't know what to do first. He almost forgot how to breathe.

Carly broke the silence by whispering to him, "I told you not to get involved with her…"

**to be continued...**

**

* * *

A/N: **Well, there you have it - another fast update, and now you guys know what Sam did... Feel any better? Do you still think Carly's actions were/are completely uncalled for? I dunno, _you_ be the judge.  
I'm VERY proud to say that this story reached 100 reviews as of yesterday. =] Thank all of you so much for sticking with the story and telling me what you think and everything! I really appreciate it. This story is my baby!  
So, once again, tell me what you thought - how mad you are, how upset/disappointed you are, etc. etc. Haha I'm excited to hear your comments on this chapter! :]


	12. Chapter XII

**Chapter XII**

"_You break my __trust__; you break my __heart__.  
I break your __fall__."_

Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly, her eyelids feeling heavy and almost impossible to lift. Her eyes hurt and her head was pounding. For a minute, she wondered who had knocked her over the head with a shovel.

Then she felt the pain in the rest of her body – the constant throbbing in her pelvis that couldn't be anything but a few really bad bruises, and an aching between her legs. It was a soreness she'd really only felt once before, and that was after the first time she'd ever had sex.

_Oh, no…_

She shot upwards, blood rushing from her head and making the throbbing even more intense for a few agonizing seconds. She gasped in a deep breath, as if she'd just awoken from almost drowning. When she blinked a few times and rubbed at her eyes, clearing her vision, she looked around to see a room she was… familiar with. A room she'd been in before a few times. There was only moonlight and leftover light from the streets below coming in through the windows, and the digital clock on one of the nightstands next to the bed read 5:12.

The stench of stale weed smoke, alcohol, and sweat filled her nostrils. When she looked down, she almost choked on her own air… She was wearing nothing but a bra, and the bruises on her hips and lower abdomen were evident. Only her panties were lying next to her on the rumpled bed comforter, but she couldn't see any of her other clothing items from where she sat, not even her shoes.

Frantically, she scrambled to get up and put her panties on, wincing at the pain the bruises caused when they were touched the wrong way. She then flipped pillows and blankets over, checked under the bed, and searched the rest of the room for her clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. She groaned when she found her cell phone lying under the bed, shut off. She turned it on, but it immediately turned back off. It was dead.

As a last resort, she went to the dresser and rummaged through the clothes in the drawers. She found a pair of pajama pants and a sweater. She slipped them on, then went to the door and opened it slowly. She peeked out into the dark and deserted hallway. There were empty red cups scattered around the floor, but no one was around. She quickly darted out of the room, useless cell phone in hand. When she made it to the stairs, she stopped and peered down. More empty red cups everywhere, but still no people. She crept down the stairs as quickly as she could and made it into the living room. It was dark, but she could faintly see the outlines of a few remaining bodies scattered amongst the couch and chairs, and a couple even on the floor. They were all sleeping soundly, though.

She double-checked the room to make sure no one saw her, then dashed to the front door noiselessly. She carefully and quietly opened it and slipped out onto the porch, turning around to close the door just as carefully. Finally, she made it off the porch and to the sidewalk, where she headed for the first thing that came to mind: the bus stop. She thanked God as she walked that it was still dark, and would remain that way for at least another half hour, but then the sun would start to rise and more people would be waking up and coming out of their homes.

The last thing she wanted right now was attention. All she wanted was to get to Spencer safely. He'd know what to do from there.

She made it to the bus stop with a few minutes to spare before the 5:30 bus would arrive. She sat on the bench under the small shelter, arms crossed over her chest and shivering. Her toes were numb by now, considering she was barefoot. The clothes she had on didn't do much for warmth, but they were better than nothing.

As she sat and waited, she tried her hardest to dig deep into her throbbing brain and pull out memories from the night before, but the last thing she remembered was standing in the kitchen and being cheered on by everyone to chug down whatever that juice was. And she had done just that.

When had she been taken upstairs? Who had taken her there? Did _no one_ see her being taken upstairs, or did they just assume she was willing? And for God's sake, who was the bastard that took the advantage of her?!

She had a bad feeling, though, that it was more than one bastard…

The bus finally came to a slow and screeching halt in front of her. She jumped up from the bench and hurried to the opened doors, climbing the steps. The bus driver stopped her. "Token? Money?"

Her heart dropped. She didn't have her wallet with her anymore, or her pants, so she didn't have her emergency bus money… She had nothing but the clothes on her back and her cell phone.

However, the bus driver was an older woman, and as she eyed Sam up and down, her face softened. "Sweetie, are you alright?"

Sam looked to her with a distressed face and slowly shook her head. "N-no. I… just wanna get home. Please…"

The bus driver looked at her with pity, then gestured for her to go ahead and sit down. She pulled the lever and closed the bus doors, then drove off again.

Sam sat near the front of the mostly empty bus. There was only a hobo sitting in the very back, a man in a suit reading a newspaper, and a woman in a waitress's uniform inhabiting the bus at 5:30 in the morning. None of them gave Sam a second glance, though. She thanked God for that, too, as well as the bus driver's early morning pity.

When the bumpy ride came to a stop at the bus stop nearest Bushwell Plaza, Sam hopped up and rushed to the front. Before stepping down the stairs and off the bus, she turned back to the driver. "Thank you."

The driver only nodded, giving a small smile.

She rushed off down the sidewalk as the sounds of the rumbling bus faded behind her. Her pace quickened when she noticed the moon was gone and the sky was becoming a little lighter. Her feet were freezing, she couldn't feel her toes, and her throat was raw from the night before and the cold air she was breathing in. But not once did Sam cry – not a single tear, just like her mother had taught her. ("If you let them see you crying, they'll know you're weak, Samantha! You can't let them know you're weak, because then you'll just end up like me: a man controlling your life and hitting you for every little thing. I don't want you to become like me. Don't let anyone know you're vulnerable, not even the few people you trust. _Because no one sticks around forever._")

It took a little longer than the walk from Connor's to the bus stop had taken, but finally, just as the sun was coming up, She made it to Bushwell Plaza. She made it inside to the warm lobby as fast as she could, breathing in the warm air. The floor was still cold, though.

As she headed for the elevator, she noticed Lewbert was at his desk again.

"WEAR _**SHOES**_ IN MY _**LOBBY**_!" he screamed at her obnoxiously, but she only turned her head and glared at him before the elevator opened and she got inside, disappearing as the door closed and took her up to the Shay loft.

It was hard, but she somehow managed to hold back the tears that were threatening to come out as she waited patiently for the elevator to climb the levels. She took a few deep breaths, praying Spencer would be up. He was probably worried to death about her, not getting any texts or calls. She probably had a ton of missed calls and new texts and voicemails on her phone by now…

When the elevator doors opened to reveal a darkened Shay loft, Sam felt relief rushing through her. She was finally safe… home and safe.

She stepped out into the loft, looking around curiously. She noticed the sculpture in the kitchen had been pushed over, or knocked over on accident, and was lying in a few pieces on the tiled floor. When she stepped closer, some movement from the couch startled her, and she spun to look. Spencer was sitting in the dark, his arms crossed, staring straight ahead. He looked angry, which was something Sam had rarely seen.

"Spencer?" she whispered.

He looked over to her, then stood up, letting his arms fall to his sides. He let out a sigh. "Sam…"

She ran to him, collapsing against him and wrapping her arms around his torso. She buried her face in his shirt and felt tears escaping from her eyes. She tried to hold them back, but it was useless now. She couldn't now that she was with Spencer.

He nearly stumbled back from the force of her hug, but he remained balanced, raising his arms in surprise as she wrapped hers around him. She was squeezing him tightly, and he felt her crying. He looked down and noticed she wasn't wearing what she'd left in, and she had no coat or shoes. This only angered him more.

"What… the _hell_, Sam?" he demanded, prying her from him and pushing her away a bit by her shoulders.

She looked up at him, confused, her eyes filled with tears and more running down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly. "Wh… what?"

He looked away from her, almost unable to make eye contact with her. It hurt to see her now, knowing what she'd done… to Carly _and_ to him. "God damn it, Sam…"

She stared at him, growing more and more confused. "_What?_"

He shook his head, then looked back at her, staring into her confused and sad eyes. "Why'd you do it?"

Her heart dropped. "Do… what?"

"Don't act dumb!" he was raising his voice, and he wasn't meaning to, but he was so just so angry, and the way she was acting, like she didn't know why, was only making him angrier.

"I'm not! What are you _talking_ about, Spence?" she defended herself.

He groaned, running a hand through his hair and shutting his eyes for a moment. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, then looked straight at Sam, trying to keep his emotions back while he confronted her. "Carly came home last night."

"What? She did? What happened? Did she leave?" Sam drilled him for answers, shocked that Carly had come home on her own free will.

"She talked to me! And no, she's upstairs in her room, sleeping. So try to keep it down, please," he explained calmly. "But she… she told me some things."

Sam raised her eyebrows. She felt her face heating up. "About…?"

He put his hands on his hips, trying not to raise his voice again. "Listen, Sam… you scared the _shit_ out of me… all night. I haven't heard a word from you since I dropped you off. No calls, no texts, nothing. And now you show up at six in the morning with… someone else's clothes on and no shoes and… _What the hell??_"

"Spencer, it wasn't my fault! I went to that party and-and someone gave me a spiked drink… I don't even remember what happened! I just… Oh, God," she was recalling everything from earlier again, and she hated it. She wanted to forget about the way she'd woken up and the way she'd walked in bare feet, in the cold, still unsure of what exactly had happened a few hours prior. She dropped her head and put her face in her hands.

"A _spiked_ drink, huh?" he questioned, not believing her. Among the other things Carly had told him, she'd told him about the Sam he hadn't known a year ago – Party Animal Sam. The one who got trashed every weekend and couldn't remember what she'd done. The one Carly had to take care of. The one who smoked weed with boys she knew were dangerous, and did… _other_ things. The one who, whenever she went to a party, couldn't resist having "a little fun."

"Yes! Spencer, why would I lie about this? I swear to God… I-I woke up this morning in somebody's bed," she began, having revealed her face again, showing the fresh tears that were pouring down her cheeks. "My clothes were gone, my coat, my wallet, my shoes, everything but my phone and underwear. I had to borrow these clothes from somebody's dresser and walk to the bus stop in bare feet just to get here. I couldn't even pay the bus driver, she was just nice enough to let me get on. I have this killer headache and all I can remember is taking a drink from Nathan and the next thing I knew, I was in the kitchen chugging all kinds of drinks and… I dunno… then I blacked out…"

Carly had told him about that, too: the blackouts

He chuckled in disbelief, running his hand through his hair again. He looked exhausted and stressed, which he very much was. "Sam… oh my God… How can I believe you? For God's sake, I saw the video…"

Sam narrowed her eyes, wondering where all this was coming from. She didn't even want to know what video he was talking about… Obviously Carly was more devious than she looked. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't you be able to believe me?? I swear, Spencer… Why would I _lie_ about this?"

He shook his head, averting his eyes away from hers. "Carly… told me some things…"

Sam's breath caught in her throat. "Wh… Like… what?"

"Like… your partying habits. Your drinking. Your smoking and doing drugs and hanging out with boys that are no good," he started listing, then looked back at her seriously. "And about how you betrayed her."

Now she almost stopped breathing completely. Was he being serious? He was going to believe Carly over her… after all Carly had done to him? Sam was practically the only person he could trust anymore! And he was just going to turn on her like this?

"Spence… that's in the past. I regret it. I'm trying to make up for it, and I wanted to talk to Carly because I wanted to at least _try_ to apologize for everything. I know what I did was wrong, and I regret it a lot. But I can't change the past. I can only change myself," she said calmly, trying not to get worked up. She didn't want to fight with him.

"Sam, it's a little too late for that, don't ya think?" he said more quietly.

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously! After all this shit, you're gonna listen to _HER_?! Spencer! Please tell me you're kidding! I just went through _hell_, and all I want is for you to be on my side! The past is the past, okay?! I'm not like that anymore, and I sure as hell didn't go to that stupid ass party last night planning on getting drunk. Ya know, it was really fucking stupid of me to even trust _anyone_ there, but unfortunately, I did. So fuck me, right?! I only went there, though, _FOR YOU_."

He stared at her expectantly. "I thought you went for Carly… I thought that's what we were both going through this for…"

"_Fuck no!_" she snapped back. "By now, I'm about ready to just say _FUCK_ Carly! She's telling you shit about me that may be true, but it's _OLD_. I have _CHANGED_. She'd _know_ that if she still fucking _talked_ to me!"

"I wouldn't talk to you either, if I were her," he muttered in almost a whisper. "You can't be trusted, Sam. You were her _best friend_, and all you did was stab her in the back."

Now Sam was hurt. She stared up at Spencer with pleading, tear-filled eyes, almost in disbelief at the way he was acting. "No… Spencer, I was fucking _raped_ last night! And all you're gonna do is stand here and tell me how bad of a person I am?"

His eyes didn't change. He winced slightly at the word 'raped', but he only replied with, "Were you? …Or did you just get drunk and fuck me over, and now you're trying to cover your own ass? Is that it?"

Sam screamed in frustration, unable to hold it back. She couldn't believe he was being like this towards her. Of all the people… he was supposed to be there for her. "Spencer! I would _never_ fucking cheat on you! I swear to GOD! You mean the _world_ to me! I'm _not_ lying! I may have done some pretty bad shit in the past, but that's not me anymore! Please… I need you now more than ever…"

He just shook his head, completely indifferent to her cries and pleas. "I'm sorry, Sam… but my baby sister comes first. That's how it's always been, that's how it's gotta always be. I'm all she has… and I _know_ Carly, and she doesn't hold grudges. If she's telling me this stuff, it's because she doesn't wanna see me get hurt… like she did. She tried to warn me about you a couple days ago… but I just ignored her. And I shouldn't have."

Sam stared at him, still in disbelief. She was speechless. This had to be a dream… Spencer couldn't _possibly_ be saying these things to her.

"Maybe you should've stopped coming around, Sam," he added, speaking in a much quieter voice now. "I think I know now why Carly started acting out and being like she is… because of you."

She still didn't say anything. She only stared at him, eyes narrowed and filled with tears.

"Maybe it'd be better for both me _and_ her… if you just left us alone," he finished softly.

Sam felt herself having trouble breathing. She let out a few shaky breaths, then muttered, "Oh… my God…"

She shook her head, turning around, away from Spencer, and covering her face with her hands. How could he possibly be doing this to her? After everything she'd given him… her heart and her soul and everything she _had_ to give.

And now Carly was taking it all away. Just because of one mistake Sam had made _a year ago_.

She felt the rage bubbling up inside her, and she tried to push it back down. All the counselors and anger management classes over the years had encouraged her to keep calm in situations like this: even when she was hurting and desperate, she couldn't take her anger out on others.

But her family had also taught her a life lesson that had stuck with her since childhood: "If someone tries to hurt you, show them that you can't be hurt, and _why_."

_Because I'm sick and tired of your shit, Carly Shay,_ Sam answered the statement in her head. _And you're not going to take away the one good thing I have in my life._

She couldn't hold this back now. It was too much. Obviously, there was nothing Sam could do to make up for the mistake she'd made. So why did she keep trying? …Because she had always wanted to please Carly. Ever since the day she met her. She'd felt like Carly needed to be impressed to be kept around, and that's exactly what she'd strived for. But now? Now she was ripping Sam's heart out… and ripping Sam Puckett's heart out was something _no one_ did… not even Carly Shay, her _former_ best friend.

Sam finally gave in to her anger and dropped her hands to her sides. She didn't turn around or look at Spencer. Instead, she marched towards the stairs.

"What're you doing, Sam?" Spencer asked calmly, remaining in the place he stood, watching as she made her way to climb the stairs.

"Something I should've done a long time ago," Sam muttered angrily.

She marched up the stairs, hearing Spencer rushing after her. He knew those words, and he knew what her intentions were. But he couldn't stop her now. She started running up the stairs until she made it to the top. She got to Carly's bedroom door and turned the knob, trying to shove it open. But it was locked.

Spencer was halfway up the stairs when Sam stepped back and started kicking at the door. Finally, she used all of her strength and anger and broke the door open, watching it swing open violently to reveal Carly's dark room. She stepped into the room and turned on the light, ready to "fix things" with Carly, like she should've done long before this.

"Wake up, Carly Shay!" she yelled threateningly. "It's time for you and me to do something we should've done a fucking _year_ ago!"

**to be continued…**


	13. Chapter XIII

**Chapter XIII**

"_now I can see your pain…__  
I'm sorry… I cried so hard…  
(goodbye)"_

Sam stood in the doorway, frozen. Her breathing had calmed now, and she just stared at the empty bed before her. The covers were pulled back, but there was no Carly like there should've been. The early morning light shone in on the room, and Sam's eyes darted to the open window across from the end of the bed. It was the cliché image: window left open, curtains billowing just slightly in the breeze that blew in. And when she looked around, more of Carly's stuff was gone, some of her empty drawers left open.

Spencer stood behind Sam, staring at the same thing she was with a bewildered look on his face. She heard the small whimper of confusion that came from his throat.

She quickly spun around and stared up at him. "Well… where's your _honest_ baby sister? _Huh?!_"

He continued to stare at the room over her head, his eyes searching every corner of it and darting back and forth between the bed and the window. His mouth was hanging open, and he didn't want to look at Sam… He felt terrible now.

He shut his eyes and sighed, putting his face in his hands. He finally looked up and met Sam's expectant eyes.

"_Well?_" she questioned his silence.

He shook his head, looking down. She could tell he was ashamed now. But she still felt overwhelmingly angry at the fact that he wouldn't listen to her or believe her.

"She _lied_ to you, Spencer," she told him angrily. "Do you believe me now?"

He looked away from her, unsure of what to say. He mumbled, "Yes… I'm sorry, Sam…"

She continued to stare at him expectantly. Unwillingly, tears began to fill her eyes. She didn't know why, but she couldn't fight them back anymore. This entire night and morning had hurt too much.

"Sorry? You're _sorry_?" she repeated, her words vocally choked up from the tears. "Spencer, do you _know_ the hell I went through in the past few hours?"

Her eyes were narrowed and she looked about to attack him. She was so enraged, she thought she might. She had been expecting to find Carly and attack her, but of course, Carly wasn't there… _again_.

"Please, don't do this," Spencer whispered, still looking away from her.

"LOOK AT ME!" she demanded, nearly screaming now out of her frustration.

Startled, his eyes shot to meet hers. They were wide and apologetic, almost like a little kid who'd just been caught doing something bad… but Sam saw the regret in them. This didn't ease her anger, though.

"I _told_ you I would _never_ fucking cheat on you, Spencer! And you _wouldn't listen_!" she continued to yell, tears falling from her eyes and rolling down her flushed cheeks. "They took _advantage_ of me! And I don't even _want_ to know what video you were talking about…"

He sighed, looking down, but quickly back up at her. "I didn't – "

"NO!" she cried. "Don't even try. It's too late for that. After everything we've gone through… Every fucking night I sat here and talked to you, every night I let you cry on my shoulder about how worried you were… Every fucking secret I told you, and every fucking secret I kept for you… _I_ was the one that was here, and then you choose _Carly_ over _me_?! Okay, I understand she's your sister, and I understand you're all she has… But _she's_ not all _you_ have. And with the things she's done, she doesn't even _deserve_ to have your trust! She deserves to be put in a boot camp or something!"

He remained silent, his lips pursed and his eyes shakily focused on her.

She narrowed her eyes viciously again, her breathing coming in shorter gasps now, trying to hold back the sobs. But she couldn't. She just looked down, away from Spencer. After a few moments, he dared to reach out to touch her, but she flinched back. Her head shot up and she looked at him again. Her fingers slowly took hold of the hem of the snug sweater she had on, and she looked down at them before lifting the sweater up to her ribs, revealing her pelvis and lower abdomen… and the dark bruises that littered her milky white skin.

Spencer's hands quickly drew back, as if she had a disease. His eyes widened when he saw the bruises, and his breath caught in his throat.

She _wasn't_ lying… There was no way.

Her head slowly rose again, but she was ashamed for him to see this. Her eyes stayed on the floor, and her shaky hands held up the sweater. The chilly air that hit her suddenly exposed skin sent goose bumps down her arms.

"I don't remember what happened," she choked out so quietly that Spencer almost couldn't hear her. She was calmed down now and ready to expose her pain to him. "But whatever it was, it wasn't consentual…"

Spencer felt a sudden anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach. When he finally found his voice, he choked out lowly, "Who did this to you?"

She shook her head, another tear falling from her eye and landing on the floor below her. "I… don't know. I don't remember…"

He cautiously reached his hand out and ran his fingers across her soft skin, noticing her tense up when he touched her. She fought to keep from wincing or flinching away from his hand, trying to remind herself that he wouldn't hurt her. He ran his fingers across the bruises light enough that it didn't hurt her, but only sent shivers down her spine. She felt her face heat up at his touch. She was surprised that still happened…

But then again, she wasn't.

When he pulled his hand away, she pulled the sweater back down, pressing her arms tightly against her sides and gripping the hem of the sweater.

"Carly… showed me a video on her cell phone… of… you," he hesitated, not sure of how to tell her. He knew she didn't want to know, but she had to. "You didn't look that drunk, but… there was a guy on top of you, and you were in some bedroom… You were shirtless, and so was he, and he was… kissing all over you, and you had your arms around him and… stuff…"

She smirked to herself a little at how he finished describing it. It soon faded back into a frown, though. "What did he look like?"

He shook his head. "I'm… not sure. I think he had blond hair, and… he was kinda big. He looked like he could be a football player or something…"

Sam narrowed her eyes in thought, trying to scan through her memory and put a name to a description. But that could be a number of people she knew.

A memory hit Spencer, though; something he'd noticed, for some weird reason, and remembered. "He had these weird, eighties style Daka shoes on… like, bright yellow and blue and purple…"

Sam's eyes widened. There was only one kid in their school that she knew wore those shoes. And that kid had the very opposite of a 'good' reputation, especially when it came to girls.

_Oh, God,_ she thought to herself, feeling sick. _Not him…_ _Please, anybody but him…_

Spencer noticed her tense up suddenly after he mentioned this. "Do you know who it was?"

_I can't tell him,_ she thought. _I don't want __**anyone**__ to know… Ugh, not __**Christian**__… He doesn't have to know, though. And if I can help it, he won't._

She shook her head quickly. "N-no. I dunno who it could be."

He sighed, the fist he had subconsciously made at his side loosening up. He tried to calm down, tried to restrain himself from hunting down every boy in Seattle to find the one who'd left those bruises. "Well, he'd better hope you don't remember who he is, 'cause if I find out who it is, he's dead…"

A warmth spread through Sam's body at the way Spencer was being protective again. This is what she had craved when she came running into the loft, barefoot and on the edge of a breakdown.

He finally held his arms open, inching towards her slowly. He wanted to hold her tight and never let her go now. But as he got closer, she stepped back instinctively. She didn't mean to, it just… happened. When she realized what she was doing, she forced herself to stay still, but seeing her back away made Spencer stop in his tracks. Devastation crossed his face.

_She's scarred now… because of Carly,_ he silently realized.

He quickly, but carefully, engulfed her in a gentle embrace and pulled her close to his body. She controlled herself and let him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cold face against the warm front of his shirt. More tears escaped her eyes, and he felt them soaking through his shirt, but he didn't care. He only held her tighter. He reached a hand up from her side and stroked her messy, blonde curls soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

She shook her head against him. "You can't apologize for her, Spence… You don't have to."

He winced, but tightened his embrace on her, leaning his head down and kissing the top of her head, still stroking her hair. "I know… but I should've believed you… and I should never have left you alone at that party."

"You can't blame yourself," she whispered. "It wasn't your fault… If anyone's, it was mine, for being so stupid and actually trusting someone there. I should've known better than to take a drink from Nathan."

He was holding back tears now. "No… We can regret and wish we could go back all day, but that's not gonna fix anything…"

"I know," she quickly agreed. "I just… I'd rather forget about it. Can-can we just… not mention it… ever again? Please?"

_I have enough regrets as it is,_ she silently added.

He nodded, kissing the top of her head again, taking in the scent of her hair: weed, beer, sweat, and someone else's cologne. He cringed. "Yeah… of course."

At the same time that he was doing this, she was also breathing in the scent on his shirt. Though her nose was mostly stuffed-up from crying, she could still make out the familiar hint of paint and Axe cologne mixed together… A scent she'd grown used to and that she now coupled with the feeling of comfort and safety, as well as the memory of their first kiss.

"C'mon," he told her softly after a few moments of standing there and comforting her. "Why don't you go shower and come to bed? You can sleep in my bed this time."

She nodded against him, then pulled her head away and looked up at him. "Will you wait for me so I can… fall asleep with you?"

He smiled. "Of course… But what time do you have to be home? Tomorrow's Monday…"

Sam shut her eyes, dread spreading through her. The school week was the last thing she wanted to think about… she didn't even want to have to crawl out of bed and go see a bunch of kids who would know what had happened to her. She could try to pass off as sick, but her mom wouldn't let her after she spent the whole weekend at the Shay loft… Of course, she could tell her mom what _really_ happened… but that was just an insane idea to begin with and completely ridiculous and _completely_ out of the question.

She'd just have to grin and bear it. She could skip… but she'd already missed too much school, and Principal Franklin told her that he wouldn't give her detention for her last unexcused absence, but if she had another one, he'd give her _2_ weeks of detention… _and_ the office would call her mom. And at this point, she'd probably get grounded for that, and that was the last thing she needed… to have to be away from Spencer again.

"I'll just go home before ten," she decided. Spencer nodded.

So, after he'd given her some of his clothes to wear (she didn't want to be anywhere _near_ any of Carly's things), Sam took a very long, hot shower in the downstairs bathroom, making sure to get all remnants of the night before out of her hair and off her body.

Once the hot water was all gone and her skin was nearly rubbed raw, she got out of the shower and dried off, wincing again at the pain her bruises brought her when they were touched too hard. She pulled on her clean panties and bra, having let Spencer take them and wash them and bring them back while she showered, then pulled on the pair of boxers and the over-sized shirt Spencer had lent her. She'd demanded he throw away the clothes she'd borrowed from Connor's house. Once she'd dried her hair sufficiently, she brushed it out, trying not to look at herself in the mirror. There was a hickey on her neck that she hadn't noticed before, having not looked in a mirror until she was about to get in the shower, and she didn't want to look at it again. Plus, she felt ashamed just seeing herself and knowing what she'd let them do to her… Imagining herself kissing Christian, and him kissing her, and God knows what else…

She threw her towel aside and rushed out of the bathroom, turning off the light and getting away from the mirrors. Spencer was already lying in his bed, sketching in his sketchbook while he waited for her. The empty side next to him had the blanket and sheet pulled back and the pillow fluffed. He'd made it as perfect for her as possible. She smiled at him, noticing this, and he smiled back, closing his sketchbook and placing it on the headboard of his bed, laying his pencil on top of it. She slowly sat on the bed, slipping her feet and legs under the warm covers. Once she'd lie down, she pulled them up over her body and rested her head on the pillow, her damp hair spreading out under her head. She let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling relaxed and finally having the feeling back in her toes.

She turned her head to see Spencer watching her. He smiled again, then leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. He shut off the lamp next to his bed and laid down fully, then let Sam snuggle up to him before wrapping his arms around her and holding her.

They laid like this for a short while, the fully bright morning sun coming in through the windows. The city was officially awake, half of it going to church or wherever else.

But Sam and Spencer… they were lying together, finally relaxed, their steady breathing synchronized. Sam fell asleep first, and once Spencer noticed she had, he felt it was safe for him to fall asleep as well.

They slept soundly, blocking out the sounds of the city and the busy Sunday afternoon going on outside the apartment.

However, what they didn't know was that while they slept, Carly was halfway across the city, packing her things together in a car and preparing to leave Seattle entirely.

**to be continued…**

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A/N: **A little shorter of a chapter, but hopefully still quite a bit going on. I've already started the next chapter. I'm pretty excited for what's coming up next. But I still don't know how this story is going to end or anything, so don't think I do. I've only got as far as the next chapter planned!  
Remember, if you read, please review! They keep me writing :] Also, did all the descriptions make sense? I felt like they were too wordy, but eh.


	14. Chapter XIV

**A/N: **Agh! Another short chapter! No worries, though. Next one will be longer, and you'll find out what Carly's doing in that one, too! Remember to review, please :]  


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**Chapter XIV**

"'_cause you're __broken__ like me…"_

_Hot breath in my ear… I can hear him breathing, it's so loud and heavy. His body is heavy on top of mine, but I don't say anything, I just let him go. He's making weird noises…_

_A sharp pain in my neck… I wince and shut my eyes, then open them to see a head of blonde hair in my face: he's sucking and biting on my neck. That's gonna be a hickey._

_But he keeps going. I don't want to do this. I just remembered what's going on; I don't want to do this! Spencer's waiting for me, and Carly's somewhere in this house, and I need to talk to her._

"_Car-Carly…"_

_My voice is so weak, and my throat is so sore. I don't think this kid is even aware I said anything just now. Why is my throat so sore? It must've been that juice… God, that juice. I should've known better than to take a drink from Nathan: The Master of Getting Fucked Up._

_Spencer's gonna be so upset when he finds out about this… I don't want to do this, though!_

_Oh, God, he has really sharp pelvis bones. Every time he thrusts, his pelvis bangs into mine, and it hurts. It hurts really bad. Those are gonna bruise._

_I'm trying to push him off me. I put my hands on his chest and push, hard. I push with all my strength. But this is one of the few boys that's stronger than me. He trains twice a day, every day with his football coach, and I heard he takes steroids. I also heard he has an STD…_

_Oh my God, is he wearing a condom? I don't feel it… No condom. Shit shit shit shit. This isn't good, this isn't good at all. Please get off me already!_

_I'm pushing again, I can feel his pecs under my hands. But he just pushes back, and then he takes one of his hands and pushes mine away. So I just put them at my sides and lay there. There's nothing I can do._

_He's going faster now. Where did those other boys go? Did they just leave him here to have his way with me? And what did they take out of the closet?_

_Wait… is that a tripod?_

_I try to look over his giant shoulder, but he keeps moving back and forth, and I can't see past. All I see is the corner of something black… It looks like the camera Freddie used to use for "iCarly"._

_Someone's filming this… What are they doing with it? I'm gonna have the worst reputation ever at school… No one can tell this is involuntary. No one can tell that this is technically rape. And I can't speak loud enough to call for help or say "no" or anything!_

_I remember reading somewhere that it doesn't have to be all push and shove, screaming and fighting to be considered rape… The article said that if it's unwilling, even if you're totally trashed and they're just "taking advantage" of you, it's still considered rape, and they can still be prosecuted._

_Oh, dear God, I'm not going to remember this. I'm way too trashed. I'm lost in my own damn head. Where's my cell phone? Can I call 911? Why did those boys grab my clothes and run out of the room with them?_

_Ugh… This is the worst thing I've ever experienced. Even worse than seeing my dad being arrested… Even worse than that feeling I got when I found out I was an unwanted pregnancy and that my mom would've had an abortion had she not found out too late that she was carrying me…_

_Shit, why am I remembering all this bad stuff __**now**__? I just want this to be over…_

_And all of a sudden, as if my wish is granted, it is. I feel him giving a few more thrusts, some deep grunts, and then I swear I can feel that warmth in my lower abdomen… Ew, ew, ew. Oh, God…_

_But then he pulls out. And now he rolls off me. He's getting up off the bed and putting his clothes back on. He looks back at me. I'm lying here, naked, almost paralyzed. My pelvis and lower abdomen hurt really bad, and so does… "down there". Ugh, not that he's big, he's just… rough. Harsh and uncaring, fast, forceful…_

_Now he's gone. He's leaving me here, all alone. I can hardly breathe, and I feel paralyzed. Ohh, my head hurts so bad, too._

_Please, someone save me…_

"_Spencerrrr… Carly…"_

_My voice is so weak and so rough and even if I had called out, no one would've heard me. I keep making these pathetic whimpering sounds 'cause it's all I can do to get my mind off the pain…_

_That prick took the tape out of that camera with him. And he put the camera and tripod away like it was nothing! He'd better hope I don't remember this, or he's fucking dead… I'll kill him. I swear I'll kill him!_

_But my eyelids are so heavy, and they hurt, and my eyes burn, and my head is pounding… My body is sore and aching, and bruises are starting to form, and something is swollen down there, I know it._

_But sleep sounds so good… I close my eyes, just for a second, just because I wanna rest my eyes and stop them from burning. I'm gonna gather all my strength here in a minute, and I'm gonna get up and get the hell outta here, and I'm gonna find someone to help me. Even if I have to walk all the way to Spencer, I'll make it to him. He'll know what to do._

_God, I'm so tired, though… And everything hurts so much…_

_What… Is the door opening? Who's coming in? Oh, please be Carly, or somebody that'll help me…_

_It's not, though. It's some guy. Who __**is**__ that?_

"NO!"

Sam shot straight up in bed, gasping in deeply, her eyes wide open in the dark. She had involuntarily cried out, and now she felt stupid for doing so. She wasn't sure why she did. All she knew was that a feeling of dread had come over her in the last part of her dream and she had jerked awake, and it all felt so real…

She looked around, blinking rapidly. She squinted her eyes in the surprisingly dark room, her gaze finally clearing up and falling on a sleeping Spencer lying peacefully next to her, a light snoring coming from his open mouth. She smiled to herself, feeling comfortable again and knowing she was safe.

When her mind went back to the dream she'd just had, she realized it was a memory coming back to her… She shut her eyes, realizing she'd just remembered the event she'd forgotten about, the thing she'd blacked out for, from the night before…

_No, no, no, no, no…_

She opened her eyes and turned to Spencer, reaching out to shake him awake, but she stopped before her hand touched him. He looked too peaceful to wake. Besides, he was kinda cute… the way his mouth hung open and he jerked a little at random moments; the way the moonlight met his dark hair and made that shimmering black look; and the way he sometimes smiled in his sleep. He was smiling right now.

Suddenly, he rolled over towards Sam and flopped an arm over her, a smile still on his sleeping face. She chuckled and carefully lifted his arm, putting it back at his side. Just seeing him and knowing he was there had made her feel better… _safer_.

Realizing it hadn't been dark when she'd fallen asleep, she looked over at the alarm clock. It read 8:47.

_Damn,_ she thought. _I'll have to get home in the next hour…_

Feeling her uncomfortably full bladder pushing at her, she pulled the covers off and slipped out of bed, not bothering to be quiet. She knew how much Spencer could sleep through, and at the moment, she had to resist the urge to yell at him and start asking him where he left the alphabet.

After she went to the bathroom, she found herself restless. She didn't want to crawl back into bed because she was afraid she'd fall asleep again and then not wake up in time to go home. So instead, she left Spencer's cozy bedroom and crossed the warm living room of the loft, reaching the stairs and walking up them towards Carly's room. There was something that was bothering her that she had to confirm was just her imagination.

She made it to the partly open door of Carly's bedroom and forced herself not to hesitate and to just push it open the rest of the way. It slowly opened, revealing the empty room, the window still open, dim moonlight replacing the dim sunlight she'd remembered seeing streaming through it earlier. She carefully stepped over the threshold, her trembling feet meeting the carpet with surprising ease. She quickly crossed the room, finding herself almost afraid of the dark that surrounded her.

When she was standing at the edge of the bed, she looked down and spotted a small piece of paper – the kind of paper that was in Carly's diary, torn out and hastily scribbled on.

_It wasn't my imagination,_ Sam thought. _I knew I saw something laying here._

She reached out with a slightly shaking hand and picked up the piece of paper as if it were an antique, gentle to bring it up to her eyes close enough so that she could read it in the moonlight coming in from her right side. Carly's familiar handwriting had quickly scribbled out one simple sentence in pink ink:

_Don't come looking for me this time._

She read this one line over and over again, trying to comprehend it. When she looked back to the bed, she noticed the pillow had been flipped over, and the diary was gone. Carly knew they'd read it, hence the choice of paper.

When Sam was finally able to pry her eyes away from the paper, she turned her head and lets her gaze drift out the open window, staring at the busy street below and all the city lights. She knew that, somewhere out there, Carly was getting ready to leave for good… and there was nothing she could do to stop it…

Monday morning was hell for Sam. Not only was she over half an hour late to her first class, but she hadn't slept more than maybe 30 minutes in all the night before – combining all the times she managed to drift off to sleep for more than a few seconds. 10 minutes there, 5 minutes here, another 3 hours lying awake and resisting the urge to pick up the phone and wake Spencer up, just to feel a little better. Before she knew it, her alarm was going off, alerting her that it was time for another _wonderful_ day of school. She spent too long in the shower, not enough time taming her hair, and way too much time eating the one bowl of cereal she'd managed to get down. Her stomach was tossing and turning all night and all day, and for once, she planned on skipping out on Monday Meatloaf at Ridgeway's lunch.

She tried to wear the hood of her hoodie up over her head for most of the day, but the teachers kept making her put it down, which only drew more attention to her. She noticed the stares and the whispers in the hallway, the way the girls scowled at her, and the guys looked her up and down, as if seeing her in a new (skanky) light. She tried to ignore it, but it was too hard.

Right after her second class, Sam was unfortunate enough to pass Christian in the hallway. He only glanced at her, a smug smirk on his face, before turning all his attention back to his jock buddies. She felt her face flush and then go red. She quickly shoved her bag into her locker and slammed it shut, then rushed in the direction of the nearest bathroom, that familiar feeling coming up in her throat. Her eyes and mouth were watering, and she nearly ran to the door that said LADIES.

Barging into the empty restroom (the bell was about to ring, so nearly everyone was in their classrooms by now), she dashed to the closest stall, swinging the door open and falling to her knees in front of the toilet. She pushed the door shut behind her with a free hand, the other hand holding most of her hair back. The contents of her stomach quickly came up, falling from her mouth into the toilet water with a sickening heaving sound.

She coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe in through her nose, but only tasting the vomit in her throat again with every breath she gasped in. There was mucus and bile built up in her nostrils that burned, making her eyes water even more. She coughed, dry-heaving a few more times before finally taking in some good breaths and calming herself. Her stomach was officially empty of any chocolate-flavored puffs, and half her stomach acid was still hangin' out in her esophagus, making her chest and throat burn.

Groaning, Sam sat back on her legs, pushing her hair out of the way of her sweaty face. She sniffled and wiped away the tears that were on her cheeks. Weakly, she stood up and flushed the toilet, leaving the stall and going straight to the sink. She dampened a few paper towels and wiped her mouth, blowing her nose and trying to rid herself of the disgusting bile that was lingering in her sinuses.

She _hated_ throwing up. Even when she was really sick, and most people would _want_ to throw up, because they knew it would make them feel better… she'd rather feel sick and gross and on the verge of vomiting for hours rather than actually vomit for a good 5 minutes. It was the most disgusting experience…

After bending down and sucking some water from the running faucet into her mouth, she rinsed her mouth out thoroughly a few times. She turned off the water, then turned to grab another paper towel to dry her mouth off, but stopped.

Just a few feet from her, standing across the restroom, was Carly.

She didn't say anything. She just stood there and stared at Sam, then smiled, as if everything was okay. Sam didn't know what to do. Was her mind playing tricks on her?

She smiled back, and just as she was about to say something, she blinked, and Carly was gone.

Her mind _was_ playing tricks on her.

Sam shook her head, shutting her eyes tightly as she wiped her mouth with the paper towel. She groaned, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

"I'm going nutso," she muttered to herself.

She turned and tossed the paper towel into the trash, knowing the bell had already rung and she was already late to her next class.

_Fuck it,_ she thought to herself. _I can't stay here. I'll just tell Mom I'm sick and… ugh. I dunno. I have to get the hell outta here. I'm starting to see things._

So, she left the bathroom and went to her locker, pulling out her jacket and backpack. After she shut it, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, heading for the front doors. She dialed Spencer's number and put the phone to her ear.

All the while, she hoped she wouldn't see Carly anywhere else, whether she was real _or_ imaginary…

**to be continued…**


	15. Chapter XV

**Chapter XV**

"_a hallucination, if you will…"_

Sam walked through the door of the Shay loft, not bothering to knock. She tossed her bag to the floor and walked straight to the couch, where she plopped down on the worn cushions facedown. Feeling frustrated from the trip to the loft and everything else she was feeling, she let out a scream into the cushions. However, Spencer still heard it from the other room.

The tall, dark-haired man emerged from his bedroom, a can of spray paint in hand. He furrowed his brow.

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

Sam rolled over onto her back and looked up at Spencer. "I feel… like shit."

Spencer gave her a look of sympathy before setting his can of spray paint down on the nearest end table and sitting down on the couch with her, moving her legs aside so he would have room. Instead, she sat up and leaned into him, burying her face in his shirt. It smelled strongly of spray paint, but she didn't really care.

He wrapped an arm around her and brought her closer, bringing his other arm around her as well. "What's wrong?"

Sam shrugged into his embrace, leaning farther into him. Her mumbled voice emerged, "I'm seeing things, and I threw up just from seeing his face earlier… I'm going insane, Spence; I'm cracking up."

Spencer frowned, but couldn't help but chuckle at her last comment. He hugged her tighter, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "No, you're not… Who did you see?"

She hesitated, pulling away and lying back on the couch, her legs rested in his lap now. She just shook her head. "Nevermind."

He furrowed his brow in concern. "No… who was it?"

Sam sighed in exasperation and looked down at her hands, her face hiding behind her curtain of hair before she finally mumbled, "Carly."

Spencer raised his eyebrows, urging her to go on now. "What?"

She groaned before repeating a little louder, "_Carly_."

He perked up a little, asking curiously, "Where? What – "

"I didn't actually see her," she interrupted before he could get too excited. "I-I saw… Christian… and then I got sick in the bathroom… then I saw her. It was like a-a hallucination or whatever. That's why I left; I couldn't stand to see that _dickhead_ again."

"Who's Christian?" he asked.

Sam winced at the sound of his name, but quickly shook her head. "No one important…"

Carly sipped her coffee and gazed out the window, her elbows resting on the cool tabletop. The 2 girls sitting across from her in the booth chattered excitedly with the girl sitting next to her. But she stayed silent, tired from all the packing she'd just done and ready to get on the road so she could nap in the car. But the familiar apartment building across the street wouldn't leave her alone… it had been there, in the corner of her eye, the whole time she was in this coffee shop. Like a nagging presence…

She reminded herself that this was exactly the thing she was trying to get away from. She was going to Portland to get away from this city and everyone in it – save for the people she was going to Portland _with_, of course.

As the girls around her talked excitedly about their fake ID's and the credit cards they'd taken from their parents, though, she couldn't help but wonder what Sam and Spencer were doing at that moment, or even Freddie for that matter.

She hadn't talked to Freddie all day yesterday - since she'd spent the whole day sleeping, getting rid of her hangover, and then packing up. She'd told him she was leaving, and he'd begged her not to, tried to convince her it was a terrible idea and that it would all end badly and that she should just go back to Sam and Spencer and try to fix everything. But she'd already convinced herself that things were broken beyond repair and there was no use, so she might as well leave and start over. Besides, who was going to stop her? _Spencer?_ Ha, yeah right. He hadn't even called the cops on her yet, like any other sensible parent would've.

"Carly? You ready?"

The voice broke into her thoughts and her head snapped around, away from the window she'd been gazing out of absent-mindedly. She quickly smiled and nodded, scooting out of the booth and tossing her half-empty coffee cup into the trash nearby.

"Yeah," she replied with a tired smile, leading her friends towards the door. "Let's get outta here."

**to be continued…**

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**A/N: **I know, this is terribly short, but I have really bad writer's block on this story and this is all I've got written in the past 4 months or so since it was last updated. I'm tired of having it not updated for so long, so I figured I could throw this in as a filler chapter. Next chapter will take place a couple weeks or so after. Thank you for continuing to read!


	16. Chapter XVI

**A/N:** So I know it's been 2 years since I've updated this story and most of you have probably lost all hope that I'd ever update or finish it again, but it has really bugged me that I've left my favorite story unfinished. So after reading through it, I felt inspired again and wrote out a whole new chapter in a matter of a couple hours. I'm hoping that this story will end up being about 20 chapters long, but it might end up being more depending on where I decide to go with the story. I still haven't planned out an ending or anything, but I have some more and better ideas than I did when I started it. I don't know if any of my old readers will even read this or be interested since it's been so long, but I figure if even a couple of people read it, or maybe a few new people find it and decide to read it in its entirety, then that's enough for me.  
I want to let you guys know that all of your reviews have meant the world to me, and your constructive criticism. I appreciate it greatly and it gives me a little more inspiration and willpower to continue the story.  
I know the fandom isn't nearly what it used to be and a lot of the people who used to be in it are no longer even interested, but that's okay. I also want to remind you that I started this story in 2009 - long before seasons 3 and 4 of iCarly came out - and therefore those episodes are not taken into consideration and I'm keeping it that way for continuity purposes.  
So please read and review and I hope you enjoy it. I'll be writing as much as I can and posting every chance I have possible so feel free to add it to your story updates or whatever you want to do. Again, I appreciate every read and every review and thank you guys for being so awesome! :) If you'd like to contact me at anytime ever, feel free to tweet me at squishycool or even email me.

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**Chapter XVI**

"_Did you know? I'm here to stay."_

Blood. Why was there blood? Not much, but enough that it definitely wasn't normal and it stained the soft white cotton of her panties.

Sam grimaced as she struggled to urinate, finding it to be rather painful, almost burning. She tried not to think about it, but she worried that maybe she'd gotten a UTI or something similar.

As she pulled up her pants and flushed the toilet behind her, Sam calculated in her mind when her last period was: she wasn't due to start again for at least another week and a half, and her cycle was always regular. She'd never experienced bleeding in between periods like this, or as often as this. She'd been finding random blood spots here and there for the past two weeks. Maybe that asshole Christian had hurt her more than she realized…

She sighed and pushed the thought out of her mind, convincing herself that all the stress was probably just messing with her cycle. But then another thought came to mind: what if the rumors were true and Christian _did_ have an STD? What if he'd passed it on to her?

_Oh, God,_ she thought to herself, panicking a little as she absent-mindedly washed and dried her hands. _How would I even know? He didn't use a condom, and who were those other guys that came in after him…?_

She looked up from the sink to her image in the mirror in front of her. She was looking rather pale nowadays and there were bags under her eyes from her lack of sleep. She hadn't been able to get a good night's sleep all week. The only time she was able to was when she spent the night with Spencer, but she was only allowed to do that on the weekends anymore, so the rest of the weeknights were spent in her own cold bed, tossing and turning and trying to force painful memories away. The few hours she was able to sleep were almost always interrupted by nightmares. Nightmares about Carly or about that night at the party, sometimes nightmares about Spencer that made her pick up the phone as soon as she awoke and call him just to make sure everything was okay – that _they_ were okay. She tried not to as of late because she knew she was disturbing his sleep, but he never complained. Being the caring person he was, he always answered by the third ring and did everything he could to assure her and make her feel better.

She let out a shaky sigh and turned away from her reflection, leaning against the sink and pulling out her cell phone. She typed a text to Spencer that said, "_I'm worried about something, I think we need to talk later_" and pressed Send.

Before she had reached the bathroom door to return to the school hallways and head back to class, her phone vibrated with a reply from him that said, "_Ok, I'll pick u up from school_."

Sam returned to class, looking up at the clock and urging the hands to move a little faster. School was even more torturous than usual the past two weeks. No one talked to her anymore, but she could tell they were talking _about_ her. She could hear whispers as she walked by groups of girls and chuckles when she passed crowds of guys. Judging eyes followed her every step. She'd taken to skipping lunch and spending the period in the library – of all places – because she knew she wouldn't be bothered. She sat between the many stacks of books and ate her sandwiches in silence. The librarian didn't even bother her. Probably out of pity, Sam assumed. She felt like everyone either hated her or pitied her anymore. It was no secret that she and Carly had had a serious falling out and now Carly was mysteriously gone while Sam was left behind to pick up the pieces of her social life. iCarly had been abandoned and Freddie even avoided her at every turn. She saw him maybe once or twice in a school day, and as soon as he'd realize she spotted him, he would turn the other way and rush out of sight, a look of guilt evident on his face even from a mile away.

Her only escape was Spencer's apartment, even though it still carried painful memories of the friendship that used to be. She avoided the upper floor at all costs, refusing to even look at the closed door that led to Carly's bedroom, and she especially didn't want to get near the old iCarly studio.

Still hopeful that they would find Carly and sort things out somehow or another, and afraid of losing custody of her, Spencer had called the school and told them a relative had died and that Carly would need to take a leave of absence from school until further notice. Since she had always been a model student and was popular with the staff, they didn't ask questions and allowed it, agreeing to send her homework to Spencer.

Sam heard plenty of things going around about Carly, though she couldn't quite decipher what were true and what were just rumors. No one talked directly to her, so she had to rely on eavesdropping and being in the right place at the right time. For the most part, she'd gathered that Carly and her crew of skanks had gone to Portland for a "vacation." She'd also heard that the whole group of girls had developed a bit of a cocaine habit, but Sam wasn't sure whether she believed that, even though she'd heard it just as many times as she'd heard the thing about Portland. Had Carly really changed that much? She may have given in and started drinking with her new friends, but she'd never even picked up a joint or cigarette, let alone anything harder. Maybe she just didn't care anymore…

Just as he'd promised, Spencer arrived at Ridgeway to pick Sam up. He was waiting for her in the parking lot when she walked out the side doors like she always did anymore, avoiding the front doors and their large groups of judgmental remarks. She jogged over to his car and got into the passenger seat, letting out a sigh of relief as he drove away from the high school and she finally felt like she could relax a little.

"Bad day?" he asked, stopping at the intersection and waiting for the other cars full of students in front of him to pull out.

"No worse than any other," Sam mumbled tiredly.

"So what'd you need to talk about?"

She hesitated, unsure of how to bring it up. It had been racing through her head all day since she'd gone to the bathroom, but she still hadn't decided on a way to tell Spencer what she was thinking. She didn't want to worry him any more than he already was, but who else could she talk to about this?

He turned his head and looked at her expectantly when she didn't reply. She stared at the floorboard, her mouth open a bit as she waited for the right words to fall out.

"What is it, Sam?" he prodded, worry lacing his voice.

"It's just, um… well… I've been having some… weird things going on," she stated awkwardly, tripping over her words. She had no idea how to say it. Frankly, it was embarrassing and shameful.

"Like…?" he wondered, urging her to go on.

"Like, medically," she said.

Spencer's brow furrowed as he came to another stop at a stoplight. "Are you – are you sick?"

The worst case scenario was running through his head at this moment, but he was trying not to show it.

Sam sighed in exasperation, deciding to just force herself to say it and get it over with. "Like, I think I might've caught something… from those guys."

She finally looked at Spencer to gauge his reaction and saw his face fall. There were a million things running through his head, she could tell, but he was trying to decide on which of them to act on.

At this point, he wasn't worried for himself. They hadn't done anything since she'd come home from the party that night – he hadn't pushed it because he knew how sensitive she was right now, and she didn't seem like she wanted to do anything of the sort anyway. He was perfectly happy just falling asleep holding her, and she seemed to be, too. But what did this mean for their future? What if she had been given something incurable? He began to feel the rage bubbling up from the pit of his stomach, the urge to track these boys down and hurt them in the worst possible way for what they'd done…

"…Spence?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and glanced back at her, assuring her with a concerned raise of his eyebrows. "So… do you need to go to the clinic or something? I can take you, if you want."

Sam let out the breath she had been subconsciously holding, realizing he was willing to help rather than get angry or upset or more worried. "Is that… what you think I should do?"

Spencer shrugged. "Well, I mean, if you think they might've given you something, you should probably get checked out, Sam. Treat it as soon as possible, y'know. Before it does any real damage. I mean… yeah, it's definitely what I think you should do. I'm worried about you."

Sam nodded and leaned back in her seat a little, staring out the windshield in thought. He was right, of course. It would be stupid not to go get tested and find out what was wrong with her, if anything. She could decide on a further course of action after finding out the facts.

"Well, can you take me now then? I just… wanna get it over with."

"Yeah, of course," he agreed. He looked up ahead in the street to find out where he needed to go to get to the nearest clinic that he knew about.

Once Spencer had parked in front of the clinic, he shut off the car and turned to Sam. "Do you want me to go in with you?"

She looked up at the clinic building forebodingly, never having been inside of one. She'd never needed to.

She sat in silence for a few moments, trying to decide whether she needed to do this alone. "No, I can do it alone…"

"…You sure?" he asked.

She nodded, placing her hand on the handle of the car door and facing him, trying to feign confidence. "Yeah."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll, uh, I'll wait right here for you. I won't go anywhere."

She gave him a small smile, grateful once more for his presence and his generous nature. "Thanks, Spence."

He smiled back. "Anytime, Sam… I love you."

Her heart slowed a little and she managed to relax just the slightest bit at his words. "I love you, too."

She opened the door and stepped out of the car, shutting it behind her. She approached the doors of the clinic and took a deep breath before opening them and entering the building.

After checking in with the front desk, Sam was told to wait her turn. She took a seat in one of the many uncomfortable chairs and sat nervously, mostly staring at her feet the whole time. Her heart raced and she couldn't slow it down. All she could do was silently pray that she didn't have something, and if she did, she hoped it was curable. What had she gotten herself into? She was paying for the many mistakes she'd made a year ago. If only she'd just confronted Carly in the first place, cleared things up… But all she could do was act like nothing had happened, even though she knew she'd betrayed her, broken her trust, did the exact thing a best friend would never do, _should_ never do. She had been a coward then, thinking problems could solve themselves. But clearly, they didn't. They just festered and brewed and got worse than ever until they caused giant chain reactions of –

"Samantha Puckett?"

She was jolted from her own thoughts by a woman calling her name at the door next to the front desk. The woman wore a white lab coat and was holding a clipboard, looking around the waiting room expectantly.

Sam stood up and the woman took notice of her, giving her a welcoming smile and gesturing for her to follow her behind the door. Sam did as she was directed and was led down a white, sterile hallway to a chair in what seemed to be a miniature doctor's office filled with cupboards and cabinets and what Sam knew to be a needle storage of sorts. She cringed, hating getting her blood drawn, but knew it was going to be necessary. She took a seat in the small chair and the woman set down her clipboard, pulling out a pair of medical gloves and slipping them on.

"Is this your first time getting tested?" the woman asked.

"Uh, yeah," Sam answered nervously, eying the tools the woman was preparing – objects used to take her blood and store it.

"Okay, and what are we getting tested for today?"

"Um, everything…?" she answered hesitantly, unsure of exactly how to go about this.

"Okay then, I'll need to take a blood sample, swab your mouth, and then I'll send you to the other room to get a pelvic swab," the woman explained, tying a large, sterile rubber band around Sam's upper arm and tightening it, looking for a vein.

Sam nodded in compliance and quickly looked away as the woman stuck the needle into her skin and drew out the blood she needed.

After getting her blood drawn, Sam let the woman run a cotton swab around the inside of her mouth. She was then sent down the hall to another room that was a more complete doctor's office, complete with a bed. She was given a paper robe and told to strip from the waist down. After doing so, she waited on the edge of the bed until another woman doctor entered the room, giving Sam a smile and greeting while she put on medical gloves and glanced at the clipboard.

The next ten minutes were quite possibly the most uncomfortable Sam had ever experienced. She had to lie on her back on the bed while the woman doctor extracted foot holsters from the edge of the bed and placed Sam's feet in them, spreading her legs wide. She inserted an _extremely_ cold and uncomfortable tool inside of Sam and, while Sam grimaced and clenched her jaw in pain, took the samples she needed from what she explained was Sam's cervix.

Finally, the procedure was finished and Sam was left alone in the room to wipe away globs of lubricant and put her pants and shoes back on. She sat, still shaky, and waited. The doctor came back into the room moments later with a small plastic cup.

"Now Samantha, along with testing for all of the STD's as well as HIV, we're also going to do a pregnancy test, which is standard. Would you mind giving me a urine sample?"

Sam's breath hitched as she thought of the possibilities. _No,_ she assured herself, _I came here for STD's. There's no way I'm pregnant. There's just no way._

She nodded, though, and agreed, and before long, she was carefully balancing herself to pee into a cup in the restroom down the hall. When she was finished, she handed the cup over to the doctor.

"Alright, Ms. Puckett, that's all we need from you today. Now, is this phone number we have here for you correct?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay then, we'll call you about your results right away."

"So… that's it?" Sam asked, a little disappointed she wouldn't be finding out right away.

"Yep," the doctor answered, giving her a smile. "We have to send all of these samples through the lab and then we'll let you know what we find out."

Sam shrugged. "Okay…"

Outside, Spencer was faithfully waiting in his car, just as he'd promised. Sam opened the passenger side door and entered the car, shutting the door. She let out a heavy sigh, leaning back.

"So…?" Spencer asked, watching her.

She turned to him and raised her eyebrows, shrugging. "I guess… they'll call me when they get the results."

"Oh, okay," Spencer nodded, disappointment crossing his face as he started the car. He was also hoping for immediate answers, but at least they would know soon.

On the drive home, Sam relaxed a little, feeling better that she'd at least gotten tested. She could tell Spencer was still worried, so she turned to him and tried to lighten the mood a little. "That was possibly the most uncomfortable experience of my life," she stated with a smirk.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked back.

She explained about the pelvic swabbing procedure and Spencer cringed the slightest bit, chuckling along with her. She could laugh about it now that it was over.

The next two days ticked by in anxiety. Sam dealt with the same crap at school, though she tried to preoccupy herself by constantly checking her phone, hoping for a call or a voicemail or something from the clinic. But nothing came. In fact, she'd almost set it out of her mind when her phone began vibrating during her lunch in the library on the second day.

She rushed to the restroom and flipped her phone open, putting it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Samantha Puckett?" a woman asked.

"This is her," Sam confirmed.

"This is Joanna at King County Public Health. We got your test results back."

"Okay. So… what's the news?"

The woman hesitated for a second, but Sam noticed. "You tested positive for chlamydia."

Sam's heart dropped to the very bottom of her stomach. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she forced herself to continue the conversation. "O-okay, so… what can I do about it?"

"Well, it's curable, we'll just need you to come in to get your prescription of amoxicillin. However, we got another test result back."

_Oh, God,_ Sam thought in despair. _I have not one, but multiple STD's? What did this guy __**do**__ to me? She's going to tell me this one isn't curable, I know it. My life is over. I can never sleep with Spencer again, or anyone for that matter. I'm disgusting._

"Um, okay. What's that one say?" Sam pressed on, the knot in her throat tightening.

"Ms. Puckett… your pregnancy test came back positive."

**to be continued…**


	17. Chapter XVII

**Chapter XVII**

"…_I've got cuts I can't close,  
I've got wounds that won't heal…"_

Sam didn't move. She didn't speak, didn't breathe, didn't even think. Her entire world had come to a standstill.

The first thing to go through her head was the image of that night with Spencer, immediately followed by the night at the party – or as much as she could remember of it; the images that surfaced to haunt her in her dreams.

She was finally brought back to reality by the woman on the other end of the phone. "Ms. Puckett? Are you still there?"

Sam tried to choke out a response, but she couldn't seem to move past the enormous knot in her throat that was strangling her vocal chords. Her heart was racing now, her face heating up. Was this a panic attack? She'd never had one before, but she figured if she ever did, now would be the time.

"I-I… yeah. Yeah, I'm here," she finally choked out. She was finding it hard to get enough air and her palms were starting to sweat.

"Well, if you're able, you could come in today and pick up your prescription of amoxicillin to treat the chlamydia infection. We could also do a pelvic exam to see how far along you are in your pregnancy, if you'd like," the woman explained gently, noticing the fear in Sam's voice.

Sam thought for a moment, realizing that she probably wasn't more than two weeks along. Unless the condom had broken with Simon and she was almost three or four months along by now. She'd heard that some women still had their periods the first month or two of pregnancy, so maybe it was possible…?

It made her sick just thinking about it, but she decided it would probably be for the best if she found out for sure so she could at least rule Simon out of the equation.

"Um… okay, yeah," she agreed shakily. "And… and then what?"

The woman didn't answer at first, sighing very quietly, but loud enough for Sam to hear. "Well, Ms. Puckett, then we can discuss your options and decide what's best for you. Okay?"

Sam nodded, swallowing hard. _Options_. She didn't have any options that night at the party. What made her think she had options now? She agreed anyway. "Oh… okay."

"Alright, when would be the best time for you to come in today?" the woman continued.

"Um… I get out of at school at three, so I guess any time after that is fine," Sam tried to think straight, but there were too many thoughts jumbled up in her head right now. What would she tell Spencer? How would she tell her mother? What would she do?

_Whose fucking baby was she carrying?_

"Does four o'clock sound okay?" the woman asked, the sound of typing on a computer coming through the phone.

"Y-yeah. That's fine," Sam agreed. "Um, do I need any money for the medicine and the… appointment?"

"No, our program will take care of it for you," the woman assured, her voice softening. Sam sensed that hint of pity in her voice. "Don't worry, Ms. Puckett. We'll take good care of you."

Sam nodded. "Okay, I'll, uh… I'll be in at four."

She hung up with the woman and then stood motionless, cell phone still in hand and hanging at her side. She stared ahead at the tiled walls of the bathroom, emotionless. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, but she quickly reached up and wiped them away. Now was not the time to break down. She had to make it through the rest of the school day and then go to the appointment. From there, she could decide what to do.

A bubbling worry rose in her stomach, though, and she felt the partial sandwich she'd recently ingested coming back up. She dropped her cell phone on the floor and rushed to a stall, shutting the door behind her and leaning over the toilet, vomiting. This didn't have anything to do with "morning sickness" – this was just… disgusting. _She_ was disgusting. She could only imagine what the women at the clinic must think: a 16-year-old girl with chlamydia _and_ pregnant. How pathetic. They probably saw her as some lost soul, the kind of girl who slept around to find the love she didn't have. If only they knew, though.

She had vomited everything that her stomach contained, including her orange juice from that morning, and was still heaving, coughing up stomach acid that burned her throat and nostrils. Tears ran down her cheeks involuntarily as she struggled to keep all of her blonde locks away from the toilet and its contents. She coughed a few more times before reaching up and flushing away the foul-smelling, partially digested food.

She stood up on weak legs, her knees shaking and her face paler than ever. She opened the stall door and walked to the sink, pooling water in her hands and bringing it to her lips to rinse her mouth out. She splashed a small amount over her face as well, trying to get rid of the cold sweat. She didn't dare look up at her reflection. She was ashamed to even see herself right now. She leaned over and picked up her cell phone, taking a deep breath and typing out a text to Spencer.

"_I need 2 go back 2 the clinic l8er_," she typed before hitting Send.

Within a few seconds, her phone buzzed with a response. "_Results?_"

She sighed and sent him, "_Yes._"

She really didn't want to tell him through text that she had chlamydia… or that she was carrying God knows whose baby. Or fetus…?

She shook her head of these thoughts and forced herself to return to the library to retrieve her things, then headed to her next class.

It was impossible for her to focus on any form of algebra for the next 45 minutes, of course. Luckily, the teacher didn't bother her this time around. She kept her head down and tried to act like she was working on her papers, but all she could do was think… Think about Spencer, think about herself, about her future, about her so-called "options."

_Can I even tell Spencer?_ she wondered to herself. _What will he think? Will he want me to keep it or will he insist on getting rid of it? Will he be ashamed of me and tell me to get lost? What if this is the last straw for him and he cracks…? I can't be the reason for that. I can't put this burden on him. He's got enough to worry about with Carly and now me, he doesn't need something else. This is my problem, not his. Maybe after we find Carly and sort everything out – once she's not a problem anymore – maybe then I can tell him and ask him for help… But what if it's too late by then? What makes me even think we'll EVER sort this out with Carly? She's already been gone for two weeks, I have a feeling she's not coming back. Freddie won't even tell us anything. I can't just beat the information out of him. He's always been ten times more loyal to Carly than to me, especially now. He'd never rat her out._

_And what about when people find out I'm pregnant? Will Spencer go to prison? I knew this was wrong. We should've never let this happen. It's wrong, wrong, wrong. My mom will kill him. He'll definitely lose custody of Carly. And then what? Where will they send her? Her granddad will never take her when he finds out what she's been doing. And he'll never talk to Spencer again when he finds out about us._

_Oh, God, I've not only ruined my own life, but Spencer's, too. It's all over now. Even if I try to say this stupid thing inside of me isn't his, no one will believe me. Carly will be convinced it's his and she'll make sure everyone else is convinced, too._

Sam's mind wouldn't stop. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even realize what time it was until the bell rang, jolting her. She looked up to see everyone gathering their things and rushing out the door while the teacher yelled after them all that their homework was due on Monday. Sam hurried to pack her things as well and leave the classroom, bowing her head as she always did and pushing through the packed halls.

She was about fifty feet from the door of her next class when she stopped, her stomach churning. She couldn't do it. There was no way. She couldn't bear to face the kids in this class. She quickly turned around and took another hallway, walking as fast as she could towards the other end of the school. She glanced around for any teachers but when she realized they were all preoccupied with getting inside of the classrooms, she pushed open the double doors that led to the track and the football field and walked down the sidewalk, backpack hanging off of her right shoulder limply and blonde hair flying behind her.

Her battered Converse clomped down the sidewalk as she walked quickly to the bleachers. She made it to the safety of the shadowed area just beneath them, where she slipped between the supporting poles and let out a sigh of relief as she dropped her backpack to the ground and took a seat on the cold, dead grass beneath her.

"Sam?"

She jumped at the sound of a male voice, standing and turning immediately to the shadowy form emerging from the other end of the dark place beneath the bleachers. When he finally stepped into the small beams of sunlight, she realized it was only Rodney, who she'd known since grade school. He had one hand in his pocket and the other behind his back, clearly concealing something. His hair was curlier than ever, sitting in what Sam liked to call a Jew-fro on top of his head.

"Rodney?" she greeted, relaxing a little. He was one of the few people left in school who didn't hate her or talk badly about her.

"What're you doin' out here?" he asked, eying her up and down. She knew she looked terrible – pale and messy-haired.

"Uh… I just… had to get away," she answered. "Didn't really feel like dealing with my last class today."

He nodded, finally pulling his other hand from behind his back to reveal a lit cigarette between his index and middle fingers. He brought it to his lips and took a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke before talking again. "I hear ya. This is the hour I always use to come out an' smoke. Nobody bothers me out here."

"Yeah, that's… kinda why I came back here," Sam confessed, a little disappointed that she wouldn't be alone, but at the same time relieved to be in the company of someone that didn't look down on her. She eyed the cigarette in his hand. "You, uh, got another one of those?"

Rodney's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, opening it and pulling one out. He handed it over to Sam, who put it between her lips and leaned over while Rodney sparked his lighter and lit the end for her. She took a deep breath in, letting the nicotine run through her body. She took the cigarette between her index and middle fingers and brought it away from her lips, exhaling smoke and closing her eyes for a moment. She relaxed.

"I thought you didn't smoke no more?" Rodney questioned, giving a small smirk.

Sam shrugged, taking another drag and exhaling. "I don't, but I just need to relax right now."

He nodded in understanding.

They stood in silence for a couple of minutes, each smoking their own cigarette and entertaining themselves with watching the shapes the clouds of exhaled smoke formed. Finally, Rodney broke the silence.

"So, uh… what's all this crap I been hearin' about you an' Carly? The whole school seems to think she's some sorta saint and yer the biggest skank to walk the earth."

Sam looked down at the ground, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess I am."

Rodney smirked. "Now I know that ain't true. Not the Sam I know. I mean, I ain't sayin' yer some kinda virgin, but I know you ain't been doin' half the shit Carly's been gettin' into lately. At least, not anymore."

Sam looked up and smiled at Rodney, appreciating that he didn't believe the rumors and trusted that he knew Sam better than the rest of the school. Her smile faded, though, when she thought about the things she _had_ done. "No, but I've done some pretty shitty stuff in the past… Stuff I can't take back."

Rodney shrugged indifferently, making smoke rings with his mouth before adding, "So? Everybody does. Don't mean ya can't fix it… make up for it. Yer past don't define who ya are, ya know? It's who ya are now. That's what matters."

"Yeah, but some people don't forget things. I mean, how could they when it ends up fucking them over so badly…"

Rodney shook his head. "Fuck them, Sam. Holdin' a grudge is fer pussies. I've seen you forgive people for some pretty bad shit and get on with life. If somebody can't get the hell over it and realize you've changed, that's their loss, man. Everybody makes mistakes and everybody hurts somebody else at some point in their life. It's _their_ problem if they can't get over it and move on."

Sam shrugged, knowing Rodney was right. Even now, after what Carly had done to get "revenge" on Sam, she knew she'd still forgive her and take her back as her best friend in a heartbeat if it meant she could have the old Carly back. All she wanted was the same thing from Carly. But she knew it would never happen because what Sam had done was embedded in Carly and she'd formed a grudge that she couldn't let go of. But was it really worth all of this just because Sam had stolen her boyfriend?

Admittedly, though, Carly had come close to having a really bad experience at the party that Sam had left her at so that she could go fool around with Carly's boyfriend. It was understandable, in a way, to be upset. But she was sure those other girls were probably fueling the fire, insisting she never forgive Sam and do everything she could to get back at her. They were vindictive and malicious like that.

Still… Sam missed her best friend. The day after it had happened, she'd regretted doing it. She didn't even want to talk about it ever again. That was why she never brought it up, never tried to fix things, never tried to repair what she'd done. She thought if she ignored it, it would fix itself and Carly would get over it. She thought if she gave up partying and drinking and smoking like she had been, then all would be forgiven and she could go back to being Carly's trustworthy best friend.

Oh, how wrong she'd ended up being.

And falling in love with Carly's big brother definitely didn't help matters. Now she was possibly carrying his baby. Things would never be the same again…

"Yo, Sam?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, looking back at Rodney. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "You alright there?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… thinking."

She suddenly felt a burning on her fingers and dropped the lit cigarette from between them, shaking her hand and cussing in pain. She'd been so lost in thought that she hadn't realized her cigarette had burned down to her fingers. Rodney chuckled at her, having already put out his first cigarette and lit another. He held out his open pack to her, offering another. She smiled thankfully and took another, allowing him to light it for her once more.

"So is all this shit I been hearin' about Carly true? Or is it just rumors, like with you?" he asked as they stood and smoked their cigarettes.

Sam looked over at him skeptically. "What have you been hearing?"

"About you or Carly?"

"Carly."

He shrugged. "Heard she went to Portland with Izzy and Augusta and they prob'ly ain't comin' back. Heard they stole a buncha money from their parents to get there and got a ride from some college guy they're all bangin'… heard Carly's doin' coke with those girls."

Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat and she sighed. "Yeah, I heard that, too. Well, the Portland and coke shit, at least. Didn't know how they were getting there."

"Hey, you know ya can't believe everything ya hear. I mean, I ain't even seen Carly drink more than a couple beers in her whole life. An' I sure tried to get her to smoke pot with me, but it never worked," Rodney tried to assure Sam. "I dunno if I actually believe she'd ever do somethin' that hard… Do you?"

Sam looked back up at Rodney, replying in honesty, "I don't know anymore, Rodney. I don't even know who she is anymore."

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it turned out to be more of a faulty grimace. He obviously didn't know what to say to that. "Well, uh… at least I know the shit I been hearin' about you ain't true."

Sam's curiosity peaked. "What have you been hearing about me?" She knew she probably didn't actually want to know, but she couldn't help but ask.

Rodney hesitated, unsure if he should tell her what he'd heard… and seen. "I, uh… I heard ya banged Christian Tracey… and right after him, Jarrod Owens and then Jeremy Wilcox. All within like, an hour."

Sam felt the bile rising in her throat, but she forced it back down and quickly took another drag from her cigarette, inhaling it and holding it in her lungs for as long as she could stand. "Yeah, what else?"

He was unable to quite read her. He didn't want to piss her off or offend her, but he continued as she asked. "Well everyone's sayin' ya did it 'cause ya knew Carly liked Jarrod. They're sayin' ya fucked her ex, Connor, last year and that's why they broke up."

Sam scoffed and looked away, inhaling more cigarette smoke. "Yep, sounds about right. I mean, it sounds like me, doesn't it? All I wanna do is steal Carly's boyfriends, right?"

Rodney smirked. "See, I ain't believed a word of it, Sam. I know that ain't you. I'm just tellin' ya what I've heard."

She shrugged indifferently, trying to brush it off. It stuck to her like bird shit in her hair, though.

"Only thing is, I seen the video," he added quietly.

Sam's head shot up immediately, staring at Rodney in shock, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she asked, "What video?"

He looked uncomfortable now, the cigarette remaining in his fingers at his side, not moving. He waited before answering her, unsure of how to phrase it. "There's… there's a video on 'the nasty dot com,' Sam. Of you an' Christian… fuckin'. Ya looked pretty into it."

Sam dropped her hands to her sides, clenching her free hand into a fist and taking a step towards Rodney, her eyes narrowing. "They spiked my fucking drink, Rodney. I was completely shit hammered in that video! I blacked out and had no fucking clue what was going on. I couldn't even _move_, let alone say no or tell them to get off! They took fucking advantage of me and videotaped it and it's all because of Carly's petty revenge bullshit over that shit that happened with Connor a _year_ ago!"

Rodney stepped back slightly, obviously intimidated by Sam. He gave her an apologetic look. "I-I'm sorry, Sam. I was just tellin' ya what I saw. I didn't say I thought you were doin' it like everyone says ya were. It's just… yer reputation's kinda fucked, man. It's all over the internet and everybody in school knows about it. They think yer… ya know…"

"What? A _slut_?" Sam finished for him. "I don't fucking care anymore. These fucks don't matter to me. None of them are my fucking friends. They never were."

A few moments of awkward silence passed as Sam tried to calm herself, taking hasty drags of her cigarette and exhaling in spite. Rodney cleared his throat.

"I'm yer friend, Sam," he said quietly.

She looked at him apologetically, tears in her eyes. She quickly turned away, wiping her eyes so he wouldn't notice. "I'm… sorry for blowing up on you like that. I know you're my friend. But it's like… you're about the only person in this school who is my friend anymore. Everyone hates me for a mistake I made a year ago, and now they all think I'm a dirty slut because I got… I got, uh…"

For some reason, the word "raped" came to mind, but she couldn't get it to come out of her mouth. A part of her refused to say it out loud, to admit to it. Something in the very pit of her stomach ached at just the thought of the word. It was like a dirty taboo – she knew it was wrong and shameful just to think about.

"Taken advantage of?" Rodney finished for her.

She nodded quickly, glad he'd come to her rescue. She refused to admit to being raped…

"Well, if it helps at all, I don't think Freddie really hates you," he said.

Sam's eyes narrowed in skepticism. "And why's that? He hasn't said a single word to me since Carly left. He's been following her around everywhere like a puppy dog. I have a feeling he probably helped her get revenge on me, too."

She thought about how he'd been the one to tell Spencer about Connor's party. He had to know Sam would show up and try to talk to Carly.

"Yeah, but since she left, he ain't been like that no more. I mean, he ain't said a bad word about ya, Sam. Even when Carly was around, it kinda seemed like he was just tryin' to get on her good side so he could maybe have his chance with her for once," Rodney explained. "You know how much he's always liked her. And he's prob'ly just afraid you'll beat the hell outta him if he tries to talk to ya."

Sam shrugged, admitting to herself silently that Rodney probably had a point. It didn't take back what Freddie had done, though. True, they'd never really been much of friends, but she never expected him to completely turn his back on her like that and take Carly's side in everything.

Then again, wasn't she the one complaining about how people needed to forgive her for the mistake she'd made a year ago and let her be the person she is now? Maybe that's what she needed to do with Freddie… if it was true that he was only trying to get his chance with Carly, that is, and not fuck Sam over like it kind of seemed.

The sound of the last bell ringing echoed through the school grounds and Sam and Rodney could hear kids exiting the building, talking loudly and getting excited for the weekend. They finished what was left of their cigarettes and flicked them to the ground. Sam picked her backpack up from the ground and turned to Rodney one last time.

"Well, thanks for the smokes," she said.

"Anytime, Sam," he smiled.

She turned to leave but stopped when he said, "Hey…"

She turned back to him. "Yeah?"

"Take care o' yerself, Sam. Don't listen to these assholes. You got some good friends. It's just a case o' them _rememberin'_ they're yer friends."

Sam couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah, alright."

She walked back to the parking lot and found Spencer waiting for her in his usual spot. She climbed into his car silently and didn't say anything as he pulled out.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever. She kept expecting him to ask her about her test results, but he never did. He just gave her a smile and kept driving.

She finally got tired of waiting and felt like it was uncomfortably hanging in the air between them. She had to tell him… it was the elephant in the car.

"I have chlamydia."

She noticed his hands twitch involuntarily and he blinked rapidly for a couple of seconds. But he inhaled deeply and said, "So… when do you need to go to the clinic?"

"At four," she answered.

He nodded, his lips pursed.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly said, unsure of where it came from. It just felt like the right thing to say. She _was_ sorry, after all.

Spencer's brow furrowed and he glanced at her, confused. "For what?"

"I'm disgusting," she whispered, turning away from him and watching the buildings pass by as they drove towards Bushwell Plaza.

"Sam," he started, sighing. "…No, you're not. You're not disgusting. Those… those guys are disgusting. They're vile. They never deserved what they took from you, and you sure as hell don't deserve what they left you with."

He sounded almost angry, and she wasn't sure if it was at her or at the situation in general. She hoped it was the latter.

"It's not your fault. Okay?" he insisted. "It's not. You don't deserve this. I don't care what you did a year ago or however long ago… you don't deserve this. You're not disgusting. You're amazing. And I love you. And we're going to make it through this."

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes and she couldn't push them back this time. They escaped and rolled down her cheeks silently. She still didn't turn towards Spencer.

"It's curable, Sam," he added quietly. "It'll be gone in no time and then we won't have to think about it… We can move on. We can… we can find Carly and-and we can fix things – "

"Can't you fucking _tell_ by now, Spencer?" Sam suddenly burst out, turning towards him this time, an angry look upon her face and tears rolling down her cheeks. The mention of Carly's name had pushed her over the edge she'd been teetering on all day. "We're not going to fix anything! She's _gone_! She's not fucking coming back. She fucked you over, and she fucked me over, and she doesn't _CARE_! She can't let go of her fucking grudge and now that she's ruined my life like I ruined hers, she doesn't _need_ to be here anymore. She hates you for loving me and - ya know, sometimes I think _I_ hate you for it, too!"

Spencer parked in his spot in front of Bushwell Plaza and turned off the car, sitting in stunned silence at Sam's words. He turned and stared at her in disbelief, unsure of what to say. Did she really hate him for this? For something he couldn't control?

"Sam, I – "

"Save it. I fucked us both, ya know it? I did," she said, more calmly. "We can't fucking be together. Do you realize what would happen if you knocked me up? You'd probably go to _prison_, Spencer. _Then_ where would Carly be, huh? What would your granddad think? And your dad? We probably could've saved Carly, brought her back and fixed things somehow, but we had to go and get all caught up in this bullshit romance or whatever you wanna fucking call it, and now she hates us _both_. Not only did I steal her boyfriend, but now I've stolen her brother. I'm just a fucking _slut_, and guess what? Everyone knows it. The proof is all over the internet now. And now it's gonna be on a prescription fucking pill bottle, too!"

Spencer's vision was blurry with tears now as he stared at Sam in complete disbelief. He knew she was right about them being together and the risks they were taking, but it didn't make his love for her any less real. He couldn't help how he felt, and maybe that made him a pedophile or whatever, but he didn't care anymore. Why couldn't he have Sam _and_ his sister? How was Sam _stealing_ him from Carly? She wasn't. Sam knew that – surely she did. She was smart, she knew better than this. She was just ashamed, spouting things she didn't mean because she thought so badly about herself.

"That's not true, Sam," was all he could mutter. "What-what d'you mean, the proof is all over the internet? What're you talking about?"

He was confused. Did Carly make that video she'd shown him go viral…? Would she really be that vindictive?

Sam shook her head, hastily wiping tears away with the backs of her hands. "Exactly what I said. This is a lost fucking cause, Spencer. We can't be together. If you really cared about Carly, you wouldn't be sleeping with me every weekend – you'd be out trying to find her. I know that much."

"_Bullshit_, Sam!" Spencer cried, fed up with her hurtful words. "You _know_ it's not that easy. I love you, I'm not going to just abandon you to try to track down my sister when she doesn't even _want_ to be found. I'm going to find her, but it takes time. She wasn't _kidnapped_, she left on her own accord. Besides, I need your help…"

He paused, his face softening. "I can't do this alone, Sam… I need you…"

Sam's heart broke at the sound of his admittance. She knew he needed her. And she needed him just as much. She wasn't one to admit to needing people, but when it came to Spencer, she could at least admit it to herself.

She turned away from him in defiance, opening the car door and grabbing her backpack. "You don't need me, Spence. You need Carly… She's in Portland. You'll be better off finding her if I'm not around. Maybe she'll actually _want_ to come back."

Spencer opened his mouth in shock – Sam had known this whole time where Carly was? – but he couldn't find any words to say before she'd slammed the car door shut and trudged away down the sidewalk in the direction of the clinic.

He got out of the car and yelled after her. "Sam! Come back!"

She ignored him and continued walking. She'd have to start heading that way now if she wanted to make it to the clinic in time for her appointment.

**to be continued…**

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**A/N: **Please review and let me know what you think about where the story is going :) And if you have ideas or suggestions, I'm always open to those as well. Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter XVIII

**A/N: **I'd just like to thank everyone who is still reading and adding this story to their Story Alerts or Favorites. I'd also like to say that if you are enjoying what you are reading (or not), please leave me a review and let me know. I know it can be a hassle sometimes, but every little word of feedback you leave me means a lot! Even if only a few people are reading this story and enjoying it, it makes all the time I spend on it completely worth it.  
On that note, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to **Porkchop Sandwiches** and **Monsterchild**, 2 of my most faithful readers. Even after 2 years, you guys jumped right back on and read my updates and left awesome reviews and I just want you to know I appreciate every bit of it and take every one of your words into consideration!  
I'd also like to let everyone know that I finally wrote down all of my ideas for where I'm taking the plot of this story and I pretty much have the rest of it all planned and mapped out. This chapter is very mild in action and a bit of a filler compared to what's to come in the following chapters. I really hope you like where the story ends up and I'm trying not to make it too predictable.  
Again, I appreciate every add to your Story Alerts and/or Favorites and please keep it up because it definitely helps my motivation to write!  
If you have any questions or comments, feel free to PM me on here, email me, or even tweet me (squishycool). Thanks again for reading!

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**Chapter XVIII**

_"...and all I wanna do is get real high,  
'cause it's just one of my lies..."_

The walk to the clinic took Sam about 45 minutes. It went by in a blur. She was trapped inside her own head the entire way there, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car at one point when she crossed the street before it was safe. She realized then that she needed to pay more attention, but she was just so… _angry_.

Not at Spencer, but at herself. It was her fault Carly was even like this in the first place. And she was only making it worse by getting romantically involved. How did she expect this to turn out? There was no such thing as a "healthy" relationship between a 16-year-old and a 28-year-old. She was mature enough to know that much, at least.

And she'd be damned she if she was going to tell him she was pregnant. He'd think it was his and then… she didn't even want to think about what would happen next. There was probably a one in four chance that it was his.

A small part of her held the hope that maybe she'd walk into the clinic today and find out the test had been faulty and she actually wasn't pregnant. Maybe?

It was a short wait in the waiting room. Before long, a woman – different from the one the last time she'd been here – came out and called Sam's name and led her to a room just like the one she'd been very uncomfortably examined in. She took a seat in a chair this time and was soon joined by the same woman doctor from last time.

The doctor examined her clipboard in silence, a prescription bag in her hand. She set it on the table and took out a small notepad, jotting some things down before tearing the slip off and sliding it across the table with the bag to Sam.

"Okay, Ms. Puckett, here's your prescription of amoxicillin. Take it for all seven days and don't stop taking it until it is all gone. I can't make myself clear enough on that – even if the infection seems to be cured within a few days, continue taking the pills until there are none left. Okay?" she explained adamantly.

Sam nodded in compliance. "Okay."

The doctor checked her clipboard once more then stood up, retrieving a paper gown and handing it to Sam. Sam cringed, knowing what this meant.

"I'll step out for a few moments while you get undressed. Just like last time," the doctor instructed, then left the room.

Once again, Sam stripped from the waist down and covered her bottom half with the paper gown, then sat on the edge of the bed and waited patiently. The doctor re-emerged and pulled out the foot holsters for her, placing Sam's feet in them and spreading her legs wide. Sam started to get nervous, knowing what was coming.

"Alright, Ms. Puckett, I'm gonna have to ask you to just relax for me. This is going to be cold," the doctor tried to prepare her, lubing up that same dreaded instrument and inserting it inside of Sam.

Sam winced and tried not to let out a small squeal of pain. This seriously sucked.

She felt the doctor probing around inside of her for a bit with her fingers.

"Well, I can't really feel anything, Ms. Puckett," the doctor said as she prodded Sam's insides a little more, causing her to squirm. "Either you're earlier than six weeks along, or – "

So she definitely wasn't pregnant because of Simon. "I can't be more than two weeks along. That's the last time I had unprotected sex…"

The doctor nodded, withdrawing her fingers as well as the tool. "Well then, that answers that. I won't be able to see anything with an ultrasound until at least four or five weeks and there really won't be any noticeable changes until about six weeks. I noticed your cervix is slightly discolored, but that could be from anything, really. I don't want to get your hopes up, but you may not even be pregnant. However, just to be on the safe side, don't participate in any activities that aren't safe for a developing fetus – such as drinking and smoking – and we'll schedule an appointment for you to come back in about a month. I'll do another pelvic exam and maybe a transvaginal ultrasound – which is where I take an ultrasound from the inside - and we'll see what we can find. Sound good?"

It was a lot to take in, but Sam breathed a small sigh of relief. She might not even be pregnant… but like the doctor said, she didn't get her hopes up. It was still possible.

"Um, okay, yeah," she agreed, closing her legs and sitting up as the doctor put the foot holsters away and stripped off her gloves. "So… could that positive test have been a mistake?"

The doctor shrugged, picking up her clipboard and jotting some things down on it. "It's not impossible. Like I said, just be careful, take care of yourself, and when you come back, we'll find out for sure."

Sam nodded. The doctor left the room and once again, Sam cleaned up the excessive amount of lubrication and put her pants and shoes back on. The doctor came back to make sure her message had been clear about taking the antibiotics, then scheduled an appointment for Sam to return in a month.

The walk home felt a lot longer than the walk there. Of course, that was probably because Sam was walking to her own home rather than Bushwell Plaza. When she opened the prescription bag she'd gotten from the clinic, she found a bottle of pills with her name on them and instructions to "TAKE ONE PILL DAILY UNTIL ALL PILLS ARE GONE" as well as a good month's worth of condoms. She shook her head and shoved the paper bag with its contents into her backpack.

She arrived home just before 6:30. The house was dark but her mother's station wagon was in the driveway.

"Ma?" she called, checking the kitchen and the living room and finding the bathroom empty. "Ma, you home?" she called again, this time louder, before heading upstairs.

Her mother's bedroom was empty as well, so Sam headed back down to the kitchen to find something to eat. She stopped in front of the fridge when she realized there was a note left for her under a magnet. She pulled it out and read it:

_Sam,_

_I went to Mexico with Bart for a week. Maybe 2 weeks. Depends on how much money he wants to spend on me. I left you some money on the counter to feed yourself while I'm gone. If it's not enough, just go to the Shay's. You always do anyway._

_Love,  
Mom_

Sam scoffed. Her mother had just met this Bart guy a week and a half ago and she was already going to Mexico with him? Just like her to always try to get as much as she could out of a guy.

She checked the counter and found two $20 bills and two $5 bills left for her.

"Wow, thanks, Mom. This'll feed me for all of three days," she muttered to the empty room, stuffing the money into her pants pocket and tossing the note onto the counter.

She sighed to herself and looked around, realizing just how alone she was. She'd left Spencer in a huff and besides him, who else did she have? Even her mother had ditched her now. It looked like it would just be her and her empty house for the weekend.

As she made herself a very large ham sandwich, she noticed her phone buzzing in her pocket. She stopped and wiped her hands on her pants before pulling her phone out and flipping it open to find a new text message.

"_Plz come back_"

It was from Spencer. Sam frowned and exited out of the message before opening a blank text and addressing it to Rodney. She typed out, "_Cld u hook me up?_" and pressed Send.

As she finished making her sandwich, she seriously debated on going back to the Shay loft, but decided against it. She wasn't what Spencer needed right now. He needed to be alone so he would have enough time to think and figure out how to get Carly to come back. He needed to realize that the only way to bring her back was to physically go and get her. She could only hope that he would realize this and hopefully act on it.

Her phone buzzed again just as she took a second bite out of her ham sandwich. She pulled her phone out again and flipped it open to find a reply from Rodney: "_With what?_"

She started heading upstairs to her room, sandwich in hand and phone in the other, as she texted a reply, "_Bud._"

With all the crap going on and all of this stress, the only thing she wanted to do was hole up in her room for the weekend and get really, really high. True, she hadn't smoked weed for a good 6 months now, but what could it hurt? It wasn't like she was going out and getting drunk or stealing her mom's prescription pain pills again.

She received another text from Rodney just as she finished her sandwich and collapsed onto her back on her bed. It read, "_Smoking again, are we? :)_"

Sam smiled to herself and texted back, "_Maybe. So can u?_"

She waited and waited for her to phone to buzz again and indicate she had a new text, but it never did. She was thoroughly exhausted from her walk around Seattle and her overall long day and fell into a light sleep while waiting. She was only asleep for maybe ten minutes, though, when she was awoken by the doorbell downstairs, followed by a rhythmic knocking on the door.

She hopped out of bed and jogged down the stairs, stopping halfway down to look out the window and see who it was first. When she saw a mess of dark curls, she smirked to herself and hurried down the rest of the stairs, opening the door.

"What's up?" Rodney greeted with a smile, raising his eyebrows at her.

"You bring me somethin'?" Sam asked, smiling back. She was genuinely happy to see him this time.

Rodney shrugged, glancing over his shoulder for a split second. "Can I come in?"

Sam opened the door wide enough for Rodney to enter and closed it behind him.

"Yer mom home?" he asked, glancing around the dark house. The only light was the dim one above the stove in the kitchen and Sam's own bedroom light that peeked out of her door at the top of the stairs.

Sam shook her head. "Went to Mexico with her new boyfriend for a week. I, uh… figured I'd spend a _relaxing_ weekend at home."

Rodney grinned. "Cool, so ya wanna smoke this?"

He pulled a sandwich baggie filled with bright green marijuana out of his jacket pocket and dangled it in front of Sam. She gestured towards the stairs. "After you, sir."

He chuckled and jogged up the stairs to Sam's bedroom while she followed him. She closed her door behind them and plopped down on her bed while Rodney took a seat in the armchair a few feet away. He grabbed the nearest book and started breaking up some of the marijuana on its surface, pulling out a package of rolling papers from his jacket pocket. He soon had a joint rolled up and pulled out a lighter, sparking it. He inhaled deeply before handing it to Sam, who happily took it and did the same.

She felt herself relax as she exhaled the thick smoke. "So how much for a sack?"

"Thirty," he answered.

She remembered why he was nicknamed Rip-Off Rodney… but who else would she find to buy from?

She shrugged and pulled out one of the $20 bills and both $5 bills from her pocket, setting them on the edge of the bed. Rodney took the money and pocketed it before placing the bag of marijuana he'd just taken from on the edge of the bed in return.

"So I know it's prob'ly a dumb question to ask if yer gonna go, but ya heard about the party goin' on next weekend?" he asked, taking another deep inhale of the marijuana smoke and passing the joint back to Sam.

She shook her head, taking another hit. After she'd exhaled, she asked, "Whose?"

Rodney looked slightly apprehensive. "Uh… Jeremy Wilcox."

Sam felt a small stab of dread at the sound of the name. She let out a quiet sigh, watching Rodney take a rather large hit off of the joint. "Oh."

He shrugged. "I dunno who all's gonna be there – "

"His butt buddies, I'm sure," Sam interrupted, spite lacing her voice as the faces of those boys immediately came to mind. Whenever there was a party – especially at Jeremy or Jarrod's – all four of the boys from that night were sure to be there. No way in hell was she ever going to a party ever again anyway. Why would she – so she could be judged and hear scathing remarks all night long? Or risk a repeat of last time?

Rodney chose to stay silent for the remainder of the joint. They smoked in silence and enjoyed the lingering smell and the clouds of smoke surrounding them.

The joint was finished and had been put out in a dusty ashtray Sam kept under her bed. She lied back and stared up at her ceiling in stoned bliss, her bloodshot eyes gazing off at nothing in particular. Rodney sat in silence in the armchair, also staring off into space. They were interrupted not long after by the sound of the doorbell and very hasty knocking downstairs.

Sam's eyes narrowed in confusion and she sat up, looking at Rodney questioningly. He came to attention and shrugged, indicating he hadn't brought anyone with him and had no idea who was at her door. She stood up and walked over to her bedroom window which faced the street in front of her house and looked down. Her porch light wasn't even on, but the streetlights and neighbor's porch lights shone on the familiar car parked in the street. She noticed Rodney had parked his own car in the driveway behind her mother's station wagon.

"Shit," she muttered to herself, knowing Spencer would know that she was home because of the other car in the driveway. Or that at least _someone_ was home.

"Who is it?" Rodney asked, standing up to join her at the window.

"No one," she quickly answered, rushing over and shutting off her bedroom light. "Just… shut up. Pretend we're not here."

Rodney looked out the window out of curiosity and eyed the car, then craned his neck to get a look at the person standing on the doorstep, though it was difficult to see. But the lanky figure and dark hair gave it away.

"Wait… is that… Carly's brother?" he whispered, obviously confused. "What's he doin' here?"

"I don't – I don't know. I just know that I don't wanna fucking talk to him right now, so shut up," Sam hissed.

Her phone began ringing loudly. She rushed over to it and pressed Ignore, already knowing it was Spencer calling.

Downstairs, Spencer continued knocking loudly on Sam's front door. He knew she had to be here because her mother would've answered by now and there was no other explanation for the other car in the driveway. He concluded that Sam must have someone here with her.

His call was sent to voicemail after only two rings, but he tried again… Only one ring this time. He sighed in defeat and knocked again, ringing the doorbell one more time. Why wouldn't she answer? She was avoiding him like the plague. What had he done so wrong?

She knew he couldn't do this without her… she had to. She knew him better than that. And if he knew her like he thought he did, then he knew that she was pretty alone right now, too, and needed him just as much. So why was she pushing him away at a time like this?

"_I know ur here_," he texted her, followed by, "_Plz answer!_"

Didn't she know he couldn't get Carly back without her? What made her think he could get anything done without her? All he could do was sit at the loft and think about Sam now, and how he'd somehow managed to lose his sister _and_ the girl he loved. He had to make sure she was okay.

Upstairs, Sam groaned in frustration at Spencer's persistence. Rodney gave her a skeptical look in the dim light from the streetlights outside that leaked through her bedroom windows. She glared back, daring him to make a comment.

"Maybe he's just worried – "

"He needs to worry about Carly, not me," Sam cut him off. "She's off in Portland doing God knows what and he won't even go looking for her…"

Rodney didn't say anything else, realizing this was probably a much deeper matter than he knew about.

Sam received another text from Spencer even though the knocking and doorbell ringing downstairs had finally stopped. "_I need u. Plz come back 2 me. I can't do this without ur help._"

Not long after, she heard a car engine start up. She rushed back over to her window and watched as Spencer's car pulled away. She let out a sigh of relief and turned her bedroom light back on.

"I'm gonna get outta here, Sam," Rodney announced, grabbing his rolling papers and lighter and shoving them back in his jacket pockets.

Sam nodded in understanding. "Thanks for the weed."

He was about to leave the bedroom and descend the stairs when she added, "Hey… don't tell anyone about Spencer coming here… okay?"

He eyed her questioningly but nodded anyway. She figured he wouldn't say anything but she just wanted to make sure. "I know ya prob'ly won't, but if ya wanna come to that party, it's next Saturday night."

She nodded, looking down at the carpet awkwardly. She thought she'd seen a glint of something mischievous in Rodney's eyes, but she ignored it. He descended the stairs and left, his car speeding away down the street.

She wondered why he would think she'd want to come to that party… unless he was suggesting she take it as an opportunity. The glint in his eyes clued her in on this. It was the same kind of glint she'd seen when they were exchanging smart-assed remarks in the middle of class in front of the teacher – though the teacher was oblivious to their plans, they understood each other. But it still didn't tell her what opportunity she'd be taking exactly. Knowing Rodney's scheming mind, it could be anything.

She shut off her bedroom light once more and stripped down to her underwear, tossing the bag of marijuana she'd just bought from her bed to the empty armchair. She was about to climb under the covers of her bed but her reflection caught her eye in the mirror on the wall next to her. It was lit by nothing but the streetlight and the very pale moonlight from outside the windows. She turned around and noticed her bruises still hadn't fully healed. She hadn't looked at herself hardly at all the past couple of weeks, trying to avoid it at all costs. She knew she would only see a shell of herself looking back – pale skin, baggy eyes, messy hair and bruises. She thought by now the bruises would be gone, but their faint traces were still evident, especially from some of the darker, multi-colored ones.

She grazed her fingertips over the indicators of that night and shivered. A few of them were still ginger to the touch. She remembered lying in bed with Spencer the previous weekend and crying out in pain when he'd dug his elbow into one of the tender, bruised areas. It wasn't his fault – he was clumsy and a restless sleeper – but it brought tears of guilt to his eyes as he apologized profusely and tried to coddle her.

All she could do was shove him away and roll over, trying to force the pain to go away. It wasn't just physical pain anymore… it was an emotional reminder. A scar on her own being.

She avoided her reflection because she didn't recognize herself anymore, and that hurt more than all of the bruises combined.

She slept restlessly, but thanks to the joint she'd smoked with Rodney, didn't wake up once before 6 a.m. like she usually did. By that time, she would've normally woken up about four or five times from nightmares and bad thoughts in general. She awoke feeling more refreshed than she had for the past two weeks.

Surprisingly, she didn't have any missed calls or text messages.

Back at the Shay loft, Spencer had been unable to sleep all night. He checked his phone methodically, waiting for Sam to text him or call him or anything. He watched tv and almost dozed off, but found it more difficult than he thought. He was exhausted but just couldn't sleep – his mind wouldn't stop racing.

He knew he had to find Carly and bring her back, but what was he supposed to do? Portland was huge and Carly was small. He would never find her without some sort of assistance, some sort of clue as to where she might be. These days, though, he didn't know the first place to look for his little sister.

He finally got bored and decided to surf the internet. After entertaining himself with a few news articles, he got an idea and checked the history on the computer. Carly hadn't used it much considering she had her own laptop, but she did use it occasionally, so maybe there was at least a clue left behind.

However, all he found were visits to shopping sites – shoes and dresses (if you could call them dresses with as little as they covered) and other accessories. He was about to give up when he noticed a link that didn't look like a shopping site: _the nasty dot com_.

He clicked it and found a page full of pictures of teenagers, mostly girls, with paragraphs written beneath them about what awful people they were. The most commonly used words were things like slut, skank, and "hobag." Spencer couldn't help but continue scrolling through, wondering if Carly was posted on this site for some reason.

What he found, though, was much worse.

The headline of the post read "**Sam Puckett – Seattle, WA**" in big, bold letters. Below it were a couple of regular pictures of her – one of her holding a red cup and obviously in a party setting, another of her from one of the iCarly webcasts, and another of her and Carly, also from one of the iCarly webcasts. Below the pictures was a short paragraph that read, "_This is Sam Puckett. You may recognize her from the popular webshow, iCarly, which she used to co-host with her best friend and star of the show, Carly Shay. She goes to Ridgeway High with Carly and their cameraman Freddie. You may think she's a wholesome kind of girl, but think again – she's a dirty, trifling slut. Not only has she been known to steal her "best friend" Carly's boyfriends in the past, but she CONTINUES stealing her boyfriends, as well as other people's! And it doesn't stop there – she's even been known to fuck her friends' brothers. This bitch CAN NOT be trusted. She likes to go to parties and get blackout drunk and sleep with any guy who will look her way. She's even willing to video tape it for the audience's viewing pleasure! Be aware: she has a few STD's and will steal your boyfriend if you even let him look her way. Has anyone told her how fat her ass is?_ _Here's a link to her latest sexcapade on video. By the way, right after this video was taken, she let 2 more guys come in and immediately fuck her without protection. Too bad she didn't record those, too, huh?_"

Spencer stared in disbelief as he read the paragraph, his heart dropping further and further with every word. He found the link to the video right below the cruel paragraph of lies. Hesitantly, he clicked on it.

It was quite possibly the worst 3 minutes and 16 seconds of his life… It was just like the video Carly had shown him that night, but from another angle and in much higher quality. Now that he knew what was going on from Sam's account, he could tell Sam was very inebriated and not herself in the video. She wasn't even really participating in the act – the boy was doing most everything, and he was being very rough about it. No wonder she had so many dark, painful bruises… This boy was large and blond and Spencer tried to get a look at his face, but the angle from this camera was no better than on Carly's phone and he couldn't make out enough to identify the boy.

He felt his stomach bubbling… he thought he might be sick, but he pushed it away, quickly closing out of the video. Tears escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he left the computer. How could Carly do something so heartless… or even be involved in it…? Where was his baby sister? The baby sister he _knew_?

No matter what Sam did, she didn't deserve this. It was just wrong and disgusting. He knew he would murder these boys if he knew who they were.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He checked the clock to see what time it was: 7:13 a.m. He shuffled around the clutter on the desk next to the computer and eventually pulled out a phonebook, opening it up and searching its pages for what he needed. When he found the number he was sure was correct, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed it.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Mrs. Warner?"

"Yes. May I ask who's calling?"

"Well, are you the mother of Izzy Warner, who goes to Ridgeway High?"

"Yes, that's my daughter. Why? Who is this?"

"This is Spencer Shay. I'm Carly Shay's older brother and guardian. I've been informed that my sister is in Portland and since Izzy is the only friend she has that I know about, I was wondering if maybe you had any idea where in Portland she might be. Maybe she told Izzy where she was going…?"

A few seconds of silence, then, "_Portland_? _That's_ where Izzy's gone? She told me she was staying the week with – _OH_, I can't believe this! She must've taken our credit cards and run off with those skanky little friends of hers – "

"Ma'am, I'm just trying to find my sister. She's run away and the only thing I know is that she's in Portland and that she hangs out with your daughter a lot. Are you saying your daughter ran away, too?"

"No, no, no, she didn't run away… She's done this once before but I didn't think she'd do it again… She took one of our credit cards and took one of her friends with her a couple of years ago and ran off to Portland to visit some boy she was dating. She told us she was staying the weekend at a friend's house and we didn't find out until she'd already come home and we found the credit card charges. She told us this time that she was staying at a friend's house for the week because this friend needed help taking care of her sick mother… Ohh, I can't believe I fell for this _crap_ again! I _know_ she's in Portland with your sister, I just know it. There's no doubt in my mind."

"So do you know where Carly is?"

"No, but I'm sure as hell going to be bringing Izzy back home and I'll bet Carly will come with her. Thank you for the information, Mr. Shay."

**to be continued…**


	19. Chapter XIX

**Chapter XIX**

"…_you are a hero and survivor,  
your eyes are getting tired…"_

Sam's mother didn't call once to check in on her. For any normal 16-year-old, this might be of some concern to them, but it didn't matter to Sam anyway. She would've been more shocked to actually get a call from her mom. If Mrs. Puckett called during her week away with this boyfriend of hers, it would probably be to ask Sam to come pick her up from the airport because he'd dumped her or to find some way to get her back to the United States. But no, not one call.

She did, however, receive numerous calls from Spencer. She didn't answer. She wouldn't until he left a text or a voicemail saying he'd brought Carly back home and things were alright again. But when she thought about it, she wasn't even sure if she'd answer then. If Carly did come back, she and Spencer would need a while to work things out and get things back to normal, and having Sam around would most likely only hinder progress. Sam had almost come to terms with the fact that she and Carly may never be best friends again, if even friends at all. It was more important to her that Spencer got his little sister back. She could bear to sit on the sidelines and watch them from afar if it meant their happiness over hers.

She spent the whole weekend with the bag of marijuana Rodney had sold her. The only time she really left her bedroom was to use the bathroom and raid the fridge. It was almost completely bare by Sunday evening and her room reeked of pot. She'd even eaten the month-old, open package of hot dogs from the back of the bottom shelf of the fridge – most people would've thrown them out, but there wasn't a lot that came between Sam and some meat, especially not expiration dates.

The up side to spending the entire weekend high was that she got excellent sleep and looked much better by the time Monday rolled around. She was still pale and the bruises were still faint under her clothes, but she didn't look so tired and she even bothered to get her hair back to its usual shininess and perfect ringlets.

It started snowing while she was in third period on Tuesday. She definitely regretted not having any friends with cars – or even Spencer – at this point, but she walked home quickly once the last bell rang and got home before the snow really started sticking and the temperature dropped more than usual.

Spencer called her a couple of times right after school let out. She figured he was probably checking to see if she needed a ride in the snow, but she ignored the calls nevertheless. Part of her wished she could tell him she appreciated the thought, but she figured he'd only take the opportunity of driving her home to bug her about coming back and helping him. She wouldn't allow that.

The snow didn't last long. It left maybe half an inch and was melted by Thursday. Sam didn't go outside, though. She remained cooped up in her room and used her remaining twenty dollars to buy a lot of Ramen Noodles to keep her fed for the rest of the week. She also managed to smuggle some of the school cafeteria's food out in her backpack, leaving the inside smelling of meatloaf and tater tots.

Having smoked every last crumb of her bag of marijuana and even catching up on all of her homework (it was quite possible hell had frozen over), Sam found herself rather bored after school on Thursday. She got on the computer for the first time in a while. She'd avoided it because she had a bad feeling she would probably only find a ton of nasty emails from people who'd seen the post Rodney had told her about.

Just as she suspected, her inbox had over 500 unread emails. Before glancing at a single one, though, she deleted them all.

She occupied herself with some funny videos for a short while, but that nagging was still at the back of her mind… What all had they caught on camera, exactly? And did they submit the video Carly had shown Spencer, or was it something worse – longer and with more detail and better quality? She wondered if Spencer knew about it being on the internet.

She finally typed in the address and went to the nasty dot com. She'd only been to this site a couple of times and that was because she'd been told about people she knew being posted on it. However, she found the site rather disgusting and immature, even for her standards. The only thing it was doing was immortalizing the worst of high school drama.

She typed in her name in the search bar and almost immediately, a single post came up that labeled her name and city. She read the paragraph that had been posted about her – instead of bringing tears to her eyes like it might have a week or two ago, she only scoffed at most of it – and then she saw the link to the video. Her heart jumped a little and she quickly clicked it.

She tried to prepare herself for what she would find, but nothing could have prepared her for seeing her worst nightmare all over again. It was the scene that haunted her almost every night. It was her very worst memory and the only thing that could make her cringe. Except now, she could watch it in HD.

She felt that familiar, sickening feeling rising in her stomach and up to her throat. She watched from that spot in the bedroom where she remembered seeing the camera set up as Christian's large body hovered over her. She watched as his hands invaded every part of her and his rough, jagged body left what she knew would be painful bruises. She watched as she slowly faded in and out of consciousness, clearly blacked out and being taken advantage of (if anyone knew what the hell they were looking at and weren't just convinced she was a dirty slut who was having her way with him). She watched as he roughly grabbed her small hips and rammed himself into her once more. She knew what was happening at this point and it made her even sicker. Her hand inadvertently moved to her lower abdomen, resting across it almost protectively. There were tears in her eyes by the time Christian stood up and moved towards the camera, shutting it off and ending the video. She closed out of the entire window before she had a chance to glance at the comments left below the post… She knew they would only hurt her more.

With another thought in mind, she searched a few more things on the internet and found out some information. She read that chlamydia didn't cause bleeding of any sort, which led her to search for possible causes of the bleeding she'd encountered. There was no way it was from Christian or the other guys that night – she read that by a week or two, any damage they might've caused in that area would have been healed up already. Then she found something about "implantation bleeding" – bleeding that occurred after conception.

The sickening feeling turned to nausea.

She decided she'd read enough and closed out of everything she was in, shutting off the computer and leaving it.

She sat on her bed in silence, trapped in her own thoughts. She forced herself to try to remember more details from that night. As much as it hurt, she knew it would help in the end. Had there been blood when she'd gotten up at 5 am and walked barefoot back to Spencer's? She hadn't really inspected the bed beneath her but she was pretty sure she would've noticed any blood. And there hadn't been any when she was finally able to change into her own clothes at Spencer's loft.

Now she thought back to the night before – the one she'd spent with Spencer. This was much easier to remember and way more pleasant. She could honestly admit that it didn't hurt in the slightest to think back to it. In fact, if anything, it gave her a little bit of hope. Thinking of how gentle and caring Spencer had been and how it felt to fall asleep next to the warmth of his body, completely satisfied and content, warmed her heart. She couldn't help but smile to herself.

A memory that hadn't mattered much reappeared. It was something she hadn't given any thought to because she pushed it away with a lame explanation – "he was bigger than anyone else I've ever been with" and "I haven't had sex in a while and besides, I've only had it a couple of times anyway"… there had been blood when she'd gotten up the next morning. Not much, like when she'd lost her virginity, and not enough to be any sign of a period (though she'd literally just finished her period a couple of days prior), but enough that she noticed and it had left a very small spot on the couch. Embarrassed, she had flipped the couch cushion over while Spencer wasn't looking, hoping he hadn't noticed.

Sam sighed to herself. She knew what this meant… She probably _was_ pregnant… with Spencer's baby.

"Oh, God, Sam, what have you gotten yourself into," she muttered aloud to her empty room.

At the Shay loft, Spencer sat on his couch, watching television but not really watching. He'd been far too anxious to focus on anything lately. He kept checking his phone, knowing there would be nothing there, but holding hope anyway. He was anxious, very anxious. Mrs. Warner, Izzy's mother, had promised to call him as soon as she and her husband reached Portland and retrieved Izzy and her friends. They'd told him they would be driving up there and locating her with the help of the credit card bill on Monday since they were out of town on business for the weekend, during which time Spencer had called. However, it was already Thursday and he'd heard nothing. He'd called on Tuesday and Wednesday but there was no answer. He stopped trying to call Sam except once a day, just in the off chance that she would answer, but he wasn't surprised anymore when she didn't. He wanted to tell her about his conversation with Izzy's mother, but if she wasn't willing to answer, maybe she just didn't care about finding Carly anymore. It felt like she'd washed her hands of the Shays.

Fed up with waiting, Spencer dialed the number of Mrs. Warner. By the third ring, he sighed to himself in defeat and expected to be sent to voicemail once again. Surprisingly, though, there was an answer.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Warner?" Spencer greeted excitedly.

"Yes, who is this?" Mrs. Warner replied.

"This is Spencer Shay. I called you a few days ago asking you about my sister, Carly…? I was wondering if you and your husband had found Izzy and brought the girls back yet."

There was a short pause on the other end. "Oh yes, Mr. Shay. Well, we did indeed find Izzy and we brought her home. We've been rather preoccupied this week getting her affairs in order. We've decided to withdraw her from Ridgeway and enroll her in a boarding school in England called Covington and will be sending her there immediately. As for her friends… well, we brought Augusta home at her mother's request and I believe she is also being withdrawn from Ridgeway for her rather… _distasteful_ reputation and choices."

"And Carly?" Spencer eagerly asked.

Another pause. "I'm sorry, Mr. Shay, but Izzy and Augusta both said they have no idea where Carly is."

Spencer's jaw dropped. "That's impossible. They've gotta have _some_ idea! She went with them, she doesn't have any other friends to run away with. Where else would she have gone?"

"Mr. Shay, there's no need to raise your voice with me," Mrs. Warner replied sternly. "I'm only telling you what my daughter and her friend told me. At this point, Izzy has no reason to lie. She will no longer be associating with either of these girls so there is no possible reason for her to be covering anything up. She says your sister, Carly, got involved with a boy she met shortly after they arrived in Portland and disappeared within a couple of days. She said that she and Augusta tried contacting her multiple times during their stay, but to no avail. The girls say Carly _ditched_ them and they have no idea where she may be."

"Well, who was the boy?" Spencer questioned.

"Izzy says his name was Cal. She said he was some sort of inventor and was familiar with Carly from her little webshow. The girls say Carly had a crush on him and lost interest in the girls to be with him. They also said they weren't very surprised when she left with him."

Spencer's mind reeled at the sound of the name. _Cal_. This wasn't good. That guy was a criminal. Was it possible he could've kidnapped Carly because of their past involvement? Spencer was sure the police had been able to arrest Cal, but apparently not. "Oh, God… did he-did he _kidnap_ her or something?"

"No, no, no, nothing like that," Mrs. Warner reassured. She sighed. "Mr. Shay, from what the girls have told me, your little sister seems to have formed some rather nasty habits in Portland. They say this boy was able to keep her supplied with the things she wanted."

Spencer's heart dropped. Carly? "Habits"? There was no way. Not his Carly. Not _The_ Carly Shay.

"That… there's no way," he choked out.

"I didn't want to be the one to have to tell you, Mr. Shay, but I'm afraid it's true. I would advise you go find your little sister and bring her home as soon as possible. And maybe find a nice boarding school far away for her to attend."

Spencer was speechless. Before he could muster any more words from the churning of his stomach, Mrs. Warner had hung up on him.

He brought the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a moment before tossing it on the couch. He sighed.

So now he knew who Carly was with in Portland, but that didn't tell him where she was. She could be anywhere in that big city with that criminal. He could call the police and tell them she was kidnapped, but what if they found them and caught Carly doing something illegal? Then she would be arrested, too. Besides, how would he explain not reporting her kidnapping for almost three weeks? That would be awfully suspicious. What was he supposed to do – walk around Portland until he stumbled across Cal and Carly?

"Oh, God, Spencer, what have you gotten yourself into," he asked the empty room around him.

The long and lonely school week finally ended. Sam woke up fairly early Saturday morning and found herself with nothing to really do. She spent more time than she normally would have showering and doing her hair. She even bothered to paint her toenails and shave her legs. After that, she ate what was left of her Ramen Noodles and found some really old lunchmeat at the back of the fridge to finish off.

She danced around an idea that she had been debating on in her head ever since Rodney had come over. He had told her about the party going on tonight and, at first, it was a given that she would never even consider attending. But after she gave it a lot of thought and tried to interpret the mischievous look in Rodney's eyes when he'd told her about it, she started scheming up an idea.

She knew Christian and his lot of despicable friends would be there without a doubt. So maybe she could take this opportunity to exact a little revenge on him. Maybe try to restore her reputation, even if it was only by a small amount. Causing him some sort of public humiliation, at least, would put her mind more to rest than it currently was.

It was decided. She put her mind to it and, as anyone who knew Sam Puckett would know, once she put her mind to something, it was going to be done. She smiled to herself, pleased for the first time in weeks, and walked to her closet to pick out an outfit.

After a couple of hours of deliberation, the petite blonde decided on an outfit: a V-neck blue-and-white striped sweater over a white camisole, both of which hugged her curvy figure, and dark blue skinny jeans with black flats instead of her usual beaten-up Converse. She threw a warm, white zip-up hoodie over herself that had a fleece lining to keep out the bitter Seattle night air. She touched up her hair, her blonde ringlets framing her face as they always did, and added a light layer of makeup to look a little more party presentable.

Now she gazed at herself in the mirror, happy with what she saw for a change. Everyone at this party may think she was some sort of vindictive slut, but at least she wouldn't be the only one. If she was going down, she'd take someone down with her.

While she was putting on a belt and strapping it into place at the front of her pants, the metal of the buckle pressed into one of her larger bruises and she winced. It reminded her just where she was going and worry crept up on her. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the shiny black switchblade she had sitting on her nightstand across the room. She walked over and picked it up, pressing a button to release the 4-inch long, razor sharp blade. She hadn't used it lately, but a lot of the time, when she found herself bored, she would sit and sharpen it. She knew it could cut through skin in a heartbeat. She never carried it with her because it was actually illegal to carry a switchblade in the state of Washington and the last thing she needed was another misdemeanor on her record. But her Uncle Carmine had given it to her shortly before he'd gone to jail and she just couldn't seem to part with it. Plus, there was no telling what kinds of things this knife had been used for in the hands of Carmine.

But tonight was a night when she could never be too prepared. She confidently closed the blade and slipped the knife into the front pocket of her jeans. The feeling of the handle pressing into her thigh through the denim brought her comfort and ease of mind.

About 9 o'clock, Sam shut off her bedroom light, locked up her house, and left for the bus stop. She got there a few minutes before the bus arrived. When the doors opened, she pulled her tokens from her pocket and dropped them into the token dispenser, glancing at the bus driver. She paused a moment when she recognized her – it was the kind woman who'd let her ride for free that night after the party when she was barefoot and desperate. She slowed down just long enough to give the woman a knowing smile. The woman eyed Sam for only a second before the recognition shone in her eyes and she returned the smile, obviously happy to see Sam was in a much better state than she'd seen her before.

Sam got off the bus a few blocks from where the party was being held. She walked through two blocks of closed businesses and dark alleyways before turning onto the street leading through the neighborhood. As she got closer, she noticed the familiar sight of nice cars lined up and down the street and the sound of loud music and party noises drifting along with the wind. This neighborhood had a lot of abandoned houses, but almost every one was darkened. It wasn't hard to tell which house was the host of the high school party.

She crossed the neat lawn and approached the front door, not bothering to knock. She opened it and walked in, leaving it opened for the group of people that were following close behind her. Almost immediately, she disappeared into the crowd of teenagers, blending in almost effortlessly. She was no longer Sam Puckett, Carly Shay's sidekick, or witty co-host of iCarly. She was just Sam, teenage girl in a sea of teenage girls.

Before long, she was receiving countless stares and noticed the whispers that surrounded her, even over the obnoxiously loud music blasting throughout the house. What happened to these kids being intimidated by her, anyway? Maybe it was time to go back to her old bullying days of beating up kids weaker than her just because they looked nerdy.

One blonde girl was giving Sam a rather disgusted look, red cup in her hand and her two friends beside her. Sam glared at her before stepping towards her and growling, "_What?_"

The girl obviously wasn't expecting any sort of reaction because she immediately winced and stepped back, her eyes widening. She shook her head at Sam and quickly turned away, acting like she was in an engrossing conversation with her friends now.

Sam smirked to herself. This was easier than she thought. Maybe she did still have that intimidating factor about her, people had just forgotten because she hadn't used it in a while.

The days of Sam Puckett crouching in the corner and hiding in the shadows was over. It was time to stand her ground again and remind these assholes exactly who she was.

A freshman she'd never seen before approached her and offered her a red cup just as she was entering the dining room of the house, but she shook her head and pushed him away. He walked away dejectedly. She wasn't here to drink or get inebriated in any way – she was here to carry out her plan and leave.

She was halfway through the dining room when she spotted a familiar head in the kitchen. He turned around, smiling and laughing with someone next to him, and she realized who it was. She immediately ducked behind someone much taller than her and navigated her way to the hallway.

She definitely wasn't expecting to see him here tonight. But hopefully she'd be able to avoid him for the most part.

"Sam?"

She almost jumped out of her skin, spinning around and grabbing the owner of the voice by the collar of his shirt and shoving him against the wall, ready to punch him square in the nose. But she stopped, her fist reared back, when she realized it was Rodney. He had his hands up in defense and was staring at her with wide eyes, obviously terrified. She let out a sigh of relief and let go of his shirt, taking a step back and lowering her fist again.

"Rodney… You gotta stop sneaking up on me like that," she told him, relaxing.

"Jeez, sorry," he apologized, straightening his glasses on his face and breathing out. "I thought you weren't comin' tonight?"

Sam shrugged, looking over her shoulder. "Yeah, well… I changed my mind."

He nodded in understanding. "Um… Freddie's here."

"I know," she shot him a glare. "I saw him in the kitchen just a second ago. I came through here to try to avoid him."

"Oh," Rodney said. "So… ya drinkin', or…?"

Sam shook her head. "Not tonight. So this is Jeremy's party – where is he?"

Rodney shrugged. "In the kitchen, last I saw. Why?"

"No reason," she patted Rodney on the shoulder and walked away back towards the dining room, deciding to throw caution to the wind and just ignore Freddie if he spotted her.

Rodney stared after her, whispering to himself, "What're you plannin', Sam Puckett…"

She dared to push past the groups of teenagers in the dining room and enter the kitchen. It was a pretty large room and most everyone was standing at a counter on the other side, watching each other do shots and cheering their friends on to chug beers. Freddie was among them, red cup in hand and a grin on his face as he chanted along with a couple of other kids.

She continued to look around for Jeremy and who she knew would be with him. Her eyes scanned the room, but she couldn't find them. Then her breath hitched when she spotted the tall, muscular blond appear from behind a group of people next to Freddie.

It was Christian.

The group got bored and moved away from the scene to reveal all of the boys at the counter – Christian, Jeremy, Jarrod and Kyle.

Her hands began to involuntarily shake at the sight of the sickeningly familiar group in the setting. She was no longer safe where she was. It wasn't like seeing them at school, where she knew they couldn't do anything. This was different. That horrible night could easily be repeated and made even worse.

But she reminded herself just how strong she was – how strong she _could_ be. All she wanted was to ruin these boys' reputations and get on with life, or what was left of it.

She shoved past staring kids and left the kitchen, breezing through the dining room and back to the living room. She stopped and stood on her tiptoes to gaze over the heads of the party-goers, confirming what she'd thought she'd seen when she entered – a karaoke machine hooked up to the pricey surround sound system. At the moment, they had music selected and playing on the machine, filling the whole house with its reverberating sound.

Smirking to herself, Sam pushed through the crowd of people and made her way to the front of the living room. She was just a few feet away from the karaoke machine when a petite redhead stepped out in front of her and stood defiantly in her way. The girl put her hands on her hips and glared at Sam.

"The fuck are you?" Sam blurted out.

"What do you think you're doing?" the girl asked, ignoring Sam's question. "No one invited you to this party. You're _not_ welcome here."

The girl's breath reeked of whiskey and her face looked somehow familiar. "Do I _know_ you?"

The girl cocked an eyebrow. "I'm Anna Warner. Now if you don't mind, find the door and get the fuck out."

_Of course_, Sam realized. Izzy Warner's despicable little sister. She had the same disgusting attitude and, even though she was only in 8th grade, she was quickly building up the same disgusting reputation as her older sister.

"Listen, ya little skank, last I checked, this wasn't your party. I'll be where I want, when I want. Now get out of my way before I _make_ you get out of my way."

"I'd like to see you tr-"

Before she'd even formed an entire sentence, Sam had the tiny redhead on the ground and in a chokehold, her feet kicking out frantically and her hands clawing at Sam's much stronger arms.

"L-let me g-go," she choked out breathlessly, her face turning red.

The girls standing a few feet away, presumably Anna's friends, stepped back in shock and watched with wide, frightened eyes. They didn't dare intervene.

Sam tightened her arm against Anna's throat, cutting off her air. "When I tell you to get out of my way… _Get. Out. Of my. Way._"

Anna slapped at Sam's arm, signaling that she didn't have enough air to talk and was on the verge of passing out.

"Now, I'm gonna let you go, and I better not see you for the rest of the night or I'm gonna do something much worse than choke you out. You don't wanna scar up that pretty little face of yours, _do you_?" Sam growled in the redhead's ear so that only she could hear.

Anna's eyes widened but she desperately nodded in compliance. Sam let her loose and stood back up, watching as the younger girl scrambled to stand up, joining her friends and dashing from the living room without a look back.

_That felt good_, Sam thought.

Back to what she was originally planning, Sam approached the karaoke machine. No one stepped in her way or tried to stop her this time.

She turned off the music, eliciting a loud groan from the crowd and many cries of disagreement. Kids stopped conversing and drinking and started looking around questioningly. Sam grabbed the microphone and stepped up onto the nearest chair, which was positioned right next to the karaoke machine, making herself tall enough for everyone in the room to see. She put the microphone to her mouth, turning it up to its loudest volume. She cleared her throat and everyone's eyes shot to the front of the room.

All attention was on Sam as the room hushed. They looked at her expectantly, wondering what was going on.

"Hello, party-goers. I'm sure you all know who I am, or at least _think_ you do. Now – can anyone tell me if Christian Tracey is here?" Sam announced into the microphone.

Whispers started circling the room – "Is that Sam Puckett?" "From iCarly?" "Where's Carly?" "I thought she left!" "Didn't Sam leave with her?" "I heard she had a train run on her. What's she _doing_ here?" "How dare she show her face here."

Before she could say much else, the tall blond athlete emerged from the dining room with an angry look upon his face. Jeremy, Jarrod and Kyle were all in tow. Sam spotted Freddie trailing in with the back of the crowd to see what the commotion was. When their eyes met from across the room, he gave her a questioning look, his brow furrowed. She glared back in response.

"Oh, hey, there he is," Sam feigned a grin, waving as if they were old friends. "I was just going to tell everyone something that might be a little interesting. Um, just wanted to clear it up with you all – yes, Christian and I most definitely had sex a few weeks ago and boy, was it great! He's so rough and awesome. Oh, man. And that body! But see, neither of us like condoms – since I'm such a huge slut and all, but you all know about that already – and, um… well, he left me with a little parting gift. This great thing called _CHLAMYDIA_!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed quickly by giggles and even more whispers than before. All eyes turned to stare at Christian now. He was furious, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed, glaring at Sam. She smirked back and gave him a wink. She then noticed his friends eying him in disgust.

"Oh, yeah!" she remembered, adding, "That means you, too, guys. Since we fucked right after Christian and I, that means you guys got The Clap, too! Isn't that awesome? Now _that's_ what I call male bonding. I thought he would've told you but I guess not, huh? Funny."

Several of the teenagers in the room began to burst into laughter, all eyes on Christian now as they pointed and laughed. Many of the girls stared at him in disgust, and his friends were obviously angry now. His face turned bright red and he turned to his friends, ready to explain.

"Dude, that's fucking _sick_! Why didn't you tell us? We _never_ would've gotten in on that shit if we'd known that!" Jeremy cried, his nose scrunched in disgust.

"What, I – "

But Christian didn't get a chance to finish. His friends left him to go in the other room and he quickly followed, trying to explain himself and repair his reputation. But there was no bouncing back from the announcement Sam had just made to some of the largest gossiping groups of Ridgeway. At this rate, she knew the news would be around to the whole school by Monday.

Sam put the microphone back and turned the music back on, stepping down from the chair. A couple of kids she didn't know patted her on the back, apparently proud of her for dethroning Christian. She slouched away, though, not trying to increase her fame. She just wanted the spotlight off of her for once.

She pushed her way through and headed for the front door, ready to walk home and escape this crowd. But she heard her name being called over the loud music.

"Sam! Sam, wait up!"

She turned around to see Rodney weaving around people until he finally got to her, a grin on his face. He laughed when he approached her and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "That was… awesome."

Sam couldn't help but smirk. "I just thought the rest of the school should know a little bit of the hell I've been put through."

Rodney shook his head, his smile fading. "So… he really gave ya The Clap?"

Sam looked down, embarrassed. She nodded anyway. "Uh, yeah. I don't make things up, Rodney. I don't have to."

He didn't say anything at first, obviously feeling awkward.

"It's cool – I mean, I got rid of it and I'm fine now. I just… yeah. It definitely wasn't fun," Sam added.

Rodney nodded. "Oh, well… good. So you leavin'?"

"Yeah. I only came here for that. This ain't my scene anymore," she replied.

"Oh. Alright, then. That's cool, I guess. Do ya… do ya want me to walk ya home?" he offered, looking a little worried for her. She was a pretty small and helpless-looking girl to be walking home at this time of night in Seattle.

Sam smiled and shook her head. "Nah, man. Thanks, though. I'll be alright. I'm just gonna walk to the bus stop and go home. I'll see you at school Monday."

Rodney nudged his blonde friend in the arm playfully. "Alright. Be careful now."

He turned and walked back into the crowd, disappearing from Sam's view. She cast a quick glance around the room, wondering if Freddie was still present, but she didn't spot the dark-haired boy anywhere, so she turned and opened the front door. The cold night air hit her face and she zipped her hoodie up tighter, pulling the hood up over her head and covering her bushel of blonde hair.

She shut the door behind her and crossed the lawn, which was now littered with cigarette butts and empty beer cans. A couple of kids sat on the porch, but they didn't give her a second glance as she left the property and started down the sidewalk.

It took her a few minutes to leave the safety of the neighborhood the party had been in and turn onto the street lined with darkened businesses. She was the only one walking down this street in the direction of the bus stop.

She was deep in her thoughts, reminiscing on her successful plan to humiliate Christian. She couldn't help but smile to herself. She may be considered a slut at Ridgeway, but at least she wasn't the only one with a tainted reputation now. It would take a while for Christian to live down his little chlamydia escapades.

Just as she was passing a dark alleyway, her eyes focused on the bus stop that was still a full city block away, she felt big, strong hands encircle both of her arms and yank her backwards. She lost her balance and fell on her ass, crying out in pain. One of the hands quickly covered her mouth, the other abandoning her arm. The muscular arm attached to the strong hand that wasn't covering her mouth then encircled her neck, choking the breath out of her. She was unable to gasp for air or scream for help past the large hand over her mouth and nose. Whoever was grabbing her was strong because they effortlessly dragged her across the cold, gritty sidewalk and into the shadows of the empty alley. Her legs and feet kicked out, trying to grasp onto the ground so she could stand up and push away from her offender, but her calves and tailbone only scraped against the hard pavement as she was dragged further away from the safety of the streetlights.

She was then thrown to the ground on her back, knocking the wind out of her with a quiet "_Oomph!_" Her offender was standing over her now, legs on either side of her and arms bulging, ready to attack. Fear coursed through her body, rendering her helpless. This guy was way too big and strong for her to take on.

_This is it_, she thought hopelessly. _I'm going to die._

**to be continued…**


	20. Chapter XX

**Chapter XX**

"_They say you need to pray if you want to go to heaven,  
but they don't tell you what to say when your whole life has gone to hell…"_

Sam gasped for air, pain shooting through her back and legs. Her offender reached down and grabbed her by the throat, wrapping one large hand around it and squeezing. She hadn't even gotten her breath back from being thrown to the ground before it was being taken again. Her face turned red and she kicked helplessly, gripping the hand at her throat and trying to pry it off of her. But she was too weak. Adrenaline raced through her and she tried to think, tried to defend herself. Who was attacking her? She was getting close to passing out from lack of air when she remembered the switchblade in her pocket.

_Yes_, she thought. _My knife, I'll cut him!_

She didn't have a real plan formed out, but she figured once she got a couple of swipes in he would let go of her throat and she could go from there. Lucky for her, he was only gripping her throat and holding her to the ground and hadn't worried himself with her hands. She reached down and slipped her hand into her pocket, struggling to pull the knife free. But _dammit_, they made skinny jeans so _tight_ nowadays!

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, these jeans are literally going to be the death of me_, she cursed in her head, her fingers trying to squeeze between the denim and get a grip on the handle of the knife.

She had finally gotten her fingers around it and was slipping it out of her pocket when the hand suddenly released its death-grip on her throat. Her chest heaved as she took in the biggest gasp of air she could. Stars surrounded her vision and she blinked rapidly, looking around and trying to see what happened. There was a loud _CRACK!_ and then the silhouetted figure of her offender standing over her went still before falling over, hitting the ground hard.

She scrambled to her feet and clicked open the blade of her knife, holding it at her side. Her feet were spread apart and she stood defensively, ready to attack. Her eyes shot from the dark figure lying lifelessly on the ground to the shorter, smaller dark figure ahead. She squinted, trying to make out more than just silhouetted shapes.

The figure stepped forward into a small beam of light that came down from a bulb on the building a couple of stories up that shone into the alley dimly. Sam gasped… It was Freddie. He was holding a broken brick in his hand and his eyes were wide with fear. He was shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.

Sam went pale. She was so utterly confused right now. Without answering, she looked down at the unmoving body on the ground and realized who it was… Christian. There was a large cut on the side of his head and bright red blood soaked his blonde hair and pooled into a small puddle around his head. He was still breathing, but shallowly.

"Sam, are you okay?" Freddie repeated louder.

She looked back up at him and swallowed hard. "Y-yeah."

Her arms rested against her side but she still gripped the switchblade in her hand. There were so many questions running through her head right now, she couldn't even decide which one to ask first.

Freddie dropped the broken brick in his hand. It made a loud _clack_ as it hit the pavement beneath him and came to a rest. He breathed out a sigh of relief, obviously relaxing. He looked at Christian's unconscious body, worry crossing his face.

"Is… is he alive?" he whispered out.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. He's still breathing. Just… knocked out. Cold. Probably has a concussion."

Freddie nodded, the worry leaving his face.

Finally, Sam decided on a question to ask first. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Freddie smirked. "Sorry, I, uh, I saw him following you after you left the party and I knew it probably couldn't be good. So I followed him and um… I saw him grab you and drag you in here. I didn't think I'd actually have to _do_ anything, I figured you would just defend yourself, but when it didn't look like you were able to do anything, I decided to step in… with what I could find."

He gestured towards the brick on the ground, signaling that it was the best weapon he could find in an alley.

Sam nodded, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "Well, I'm glad you did. I mean… thanks. A lot. I thought he was gonna… kill me."

She swallowed after the words came out, realizing the gravity they held. Christian really could have _killed_ her, right here in this dark alleyway.

Freddie shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets and watching Christian. It was safe to say the blond jock wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

"You really think he would have…?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah… I do."

There was an awkward silence between them before Sam decided to speak what was on her mind. "So why did you help me?"

Freddie looked back at her in surprise. "Why wouldn't I? I wasn't just going to stand by and let him _murder_ you."

"No, I mean, why did you even follow us in the first place? What made you suddenly care?"

A red blush filled his cheeks. He looked down, ashamed. "I always _cared_, Sam."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Coulda fooled me."

Freddie scoffed. "Look, I didn't have anything to do with what Carly did to you – what _they_ did to you," he gestured towards Christian. "I just… I loved Carly. I _love_ Carly. That will never change. When it came down to choosing between you and her, I think it's pretty obvious who I was gonna choose."

"I know we weren't ever really friends. I know I made your life hell. But you really think I deserved _that_?"

He sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "No! I just – I… I…"

"_What_, Freddie? Spit it out!"

"I believed her, Sam!" he finally said. "She told me… everything. About Connor and about you and… well, she told me a lot of things. I know some of the stuff she told me was lies, but for the most part, it was the truth… you fucked her over, Sam. You really did. _Best friends_ don't do that. You ditched her and left her in a dangerous position and you did it because you were acting on a completely selfish impulse. She would never have done that to you, and you know that."

Sam was silent.

"Don't you?" he added quietly.

"Yes, yes, I know that!" she snapped. "I made a mistake. And then I made another mistake by not fixing it. But I thought that's what best friends meant… you don't have to fix shit, you can just… move on. It's not like she would've stayed with that Connor douche anyway. He was obviously a scumbag if he was willing to sleep with me!"

"That's not the point, Sam," Freddie said sternly. "You betrayed her trust and then went about like it never even happened. That's not okay. Carly never did anything to betray your trust. In fact, she went out of her way to be the best friend she could to you. And you know damn well she was. No one else in your life cares as much about you as Carly did."

That last sentence stung Sam. She internally winced from the thoughts it brought back to her. He was right, after all. Sure, Spencer said he loved her, but would he still love her once he brought Carly back? Would he still love her if he knew about all of the people besides Carly that she'd fucked over? Not even her own mother cared as much for her as Carly had, and she trampled all over the poor girl's heart.

"Look, if all you're going to do is list reasons for why I should feel like a piece of shit, then you can just pat yourself on the back for saving my life and leave. I already know what I've done and I'm trying to make up for it but Carly…"

She furrowed her brow and looked down, her lips pursed.

"Carly what?" Freddie asked, his voice more gentle this time.

"She's lost control, Freddie," she finished, staring into his eyes seriously. "You can't tell me she hasn't. She's not the Carly Shay you and I became friends with. She's not Spencer's little sister anymore. She's not – "

"Oh, and you _haven't_ lost control? Last I checked, you were making out with Spencer in his bedroom! You realize that's illegal, don't you? He could go to _jail_, Sam," Freddie interrupted, narrowing his eyes at her judgmentally.

"I know! That's not the point. Me and Spencer's relationship has nothing to do with Carly. She wasn't around for either of us anymore and we just sort of grew together. It's not like I _seduced_ him or something. We both know it's wrong and we don't intend on taking it any further," she explained.

"Then why – "

"You weren't around to see the hurt in his eyes, Freddie!" Sam cut him off. She could feel the tears building up in her throat as Spencer's face popped into her head. "The way Carly was acting – I could deal with it. I'm used to being fucked over and abandoned. But Spencer isn't like that. He's too caring, too nice. He loves Carly with all his heart – she's his whole world - and she turned into some sort of monster. She's like… all he's got anymore. His dad and granddad think he's a failure, his mom's dead, he can't hold a real relationship to save his life… Carly's the only thing he's ever done right in his life and he knows it. And then she just fucks him over like this? Look, I don't care what she did to me. I deserved every bit of it, I'll admit that. I'm not a good person. But the way she treated Spencer and the shit she's put him through… no way, dude. He doesn't deserve it. She broke his heart. And I wish you'd have stuck around long enough to see that, to see the effect all of this has had on him."

Freddie was silent, his face softening in guilt.

"I just wanted to make him feel the way he deserves to feel… _loved_."

"Okay, whatever's going on between you and Spencer isn't any of my business, but it is Carly's business. And you only have yourself to blame for her leaving like she did," he said.

"Yeah? Why didn't you just go with her? As far up her ass as you have been, I'm surprised you were able to come out for air," Sam retaliated.

"I didn't have anything to do with her leaving. In fact, I tried to stop her," Freddie explained. "Don't you see, Sam? I haven't been taking her side because I have some sort of grudge against you for all those wedgies and insults. I don't care about that. I've been taking her side because it's the only way to stick around her. She stopped hanging out with anyone except Izzy and Augusta and the only way I could be included is if I sucked up to her. I had to make sure she wasn't hurting herself or getting herself into trouble. As close as I stayed, I was actually able to defer her from a few bad decisions. But I couldn't stop her from going to Portland. Trust me, I tried, but she had her mind set on it. And now I can't even get a hold of her. I call her and text her every single day but she never replies. It's like I never even existed now."

"Yeah, welcome to the world of Carly Shay, Fredward," Sam remarked coldly.

"Fuck off, Sam," he barked. "If you cared about her, you'd be helping Spencer try to find her right now. But what are you doing – going to high school parties and telling everyone you have chlamydia? Yeah, that's fixing things."

Before he even realized what was happening, Sam had Freddie pinned up against the brick wall nearest him, her hand tight around his throat and the sharp, shining blade of her knife held up to his chest. Her face was inches from his and her eyes were narrowed.

"You don't know what the _fuck_ you're talking about. Spencer doesn't _need_ me right now, he needs to be alone and he needs to find Carly, so watch what you fucking say, nerd," she growled. "I have a reputation of my own to protect and it was high time that jock asshole got revealed for what he really is… a scummy, disease-spreading piece of shit."

Freddie gulped, his eyes shooting back and forth between the knife and Sam's eyes. "Let me go."

Sam dropped her hands and stepped back, closing the blade of her knife and crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes were still narrowed.

"Is that a switchblade, Sam?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes darting to the knife now held behind her crossed arm.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"Those are illegal, y'know," he noted.

"What are you, a cop? You come to save me and then tell me about all the illegal things I do?"

He sighed, looking away for a moment and shrugging it off, knowing it was useless. He changed the subject back to what was important. "So that's it… you're just going to stick around Seattle and not even worry where Carly might be, who she might be with… what she might be getting herself into?" he asked quietly, massaging his neck where Sam had been gripping it.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam asked, throwing her hands up. "Portland is huge. She could be anywhere with those sluts. And from the sounds of it, I know exactly what she's getting into… drugs. She'll be dead in a – "

A groan came from Christian's limp body and both teens stopped what they were doing to look over. He was squirming on the ground, struggling to open his eyes. His hand moved up to the cut on his head and he groaned again.

"Grab his arms and hold him down," Sam instructed, pressing the button on her knife and popping out the blade once again.

Freddie did as he was told and crouched behind Christian, getting a good grip on his arms and holding him down.

"What the fuck…?" Christian moaned out, blinking and looking around, confused.

Sam stepped in front of him and crouched down to his eye level. "Hey there, champ."

"Sam?" he asked, squinting at her.

Before he could say much else, she was unbuttoning his pants and yanking them down his legs, followed by his boxers. Now he was sitting on the pavement, bare-assed and held back by Freddie, who was watching questioningly but keeping his comments to himself.

Christian squirmed but he couldn't seem to find the strength to stand up or defend himself.

Sam held the shiny blade of her knife to his groin and smiled at him. His eyes widened when he realized what she was doing.

"What're you – "

"Shh," she hissed. "Wouldn't wanna bump me, would ya? No struggling now. Listen… I don't ever wanna see your fucking face again. If you so much as _look_ my way, I won't hesitate to slice your fucking throat open and watch you bleed to death. Ruining your little reputation was the least I could do. I won't _ever_ forget what you did to me… And if you ever try to jump me again… I'll cut your fucking dick off and make you watch."

A cold sweat broke out on Christian's face as Sam smirked and teased his limp member with her switchblade. Slowly, she made a small, shallow cut up the length of it before bringing the blade back and holding it up to the light, examining the droplets of blood on its shiny surface. Christian let out a yell of pain, but Sam slapped him across the face with her other hand.

"This is a warning. I won't hesitate to chop the whole thing off next time," she growled, standing up and gesturing for Freddie to let his arms go.

He did so and Christian doubled over, his hands covering his new wound as he whimpered in pain. "You crazy fucking bitch," he muttered.

Sam gave him a sharp kick in his ribs and he cried out in pain again, falling over onto his side, still doubled over. She smiled to herself.

"Looks like you're gonna need stitches on both of your heads there, big guy," she chuckled and gestured for Freddie to follow her.

They left the alleyway – abandoning Christian and leaving him on the ground crying and bleeding, bare-assed in the cold night air – and started walking towards the bus stop. Sam put her knife away in her pocket after wiping it clean on her jeans.

"That was… kinda brutal, Sam," Freddie finally said in disbelief.

"Yeah, so was what he did to me," she stated matter-of-factly.

Freddie shrugged. He decided it was probably safer to just pretend he hadn't just assisted her in something very illegal.

He finally sighed. "Look… I never helped Carly team up on you or anything. I was just looking out for her safety and trying to protect her and she kinda… led me on. It felt like we were almost in a half-assed relationship but then she ditched me to go to Portland, so… I mean, you and I are kinda in the same boat."

Sam nodded, staring straight ahead as they walked. She tucked her hands into the front pockets of her hoodie for warmth.

"I don't hold anything against you, personally," he admitted. "I know you're not the same person as you were when you did that to her. I can tell. And I know you still care about her. I also know she still cares about you. She's just… hurt. This is like her defense mechanism. But she's in self-destruct mode, Sam. And we're like, the only ones who can save her."

Sam nodded again, her eyes falling to the ground.

"I don't think Spencer should have to do this alone. He can't," Freddie added. He paused a moment before asking, "Do you love him?"

"What a stupid question, Fredward," she retorted immediately. But her voice softened and her eyes revealed the weakness deep inside of her as she whispered out, "Of course I love him…"

Freddie raised his eyebrows in surprise, but understood nonetheless. "And he loves you… I know. He has to. But he can't find Carly on his own. And even if he did, he wouldn't know what to do once he found her. He needs you, Sam… and me. He needs both of us. He needs as much help as he can get."

Sam sighed, staring at the ground as she walked. She knew he was right.

"_Carly_ needs as much help as she can get," he added. "She needs all of us. We're all she's got."

They were silent for another few moments as they walked, approaching the bus stop and sitting down on the bench. No one else was waiting for the bus.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Sam finally asked, leaning back on the bench and looking down the street in anticipation.

"I dunno… Call Izzy or Augusta's moms? They've gotta have some idea where the girls are. Then we can go from there. But we'll need Spencer's help since he's an adult and Carly's guardian," Freddie explained. "Either way, we've gotta do everything we can. At least give it a shot."

Sam nodded, frowning before admitting, "I… haven't talked to Spencer in a week."

"Oh."

She sighed in defeat. "I guess I can go to the loft… and… talk to him."

Freddie's face lightened in hope. "Yeah. You should do that. If he really loves you, Sam… then he needs you right now."

She nodded. "I know."

"Can you go tonight? We can start trying to find Carly tomorrow," he suggested.

"Yeah, sure," she agreed.

They both spotted the bus as it turned the corner a few blocks down and began driving towards them. Sam stood up in preparation and Freddie joined her.

"I'm gonna call my mom and have her come pick me up. I'll come to the loft tomorrow and we'll work up a plan," Freddie said.

Sam only nodded in agreement as the bus got closer.

"And, Sam?"

She turned to him questioningly.

"…I'm sorry," he said as the bus approached and stopped in front of Sam, its door opening.

A faint smile appeared on her face and she choked out over the sound of the bus engine, "Thanks."

She stepped onto the bus and deposited her tokens before taking a seat. The bus pulled away and she stared out the window, watching Freddie get smaller and smaller until he disappeared from sight. A small part of her was glad they'd reconciled and happy to now have his help in finding Carly, as much good as it might do.

Talking to Spencer again, though, and making up for the last week… that would be another story.

Next stop: the Shay loft.

**to be continued…**

* * *

**A/N:** What do you think about Freddie reconciling with Sam? Are you happy about it? Or do you think he owes her more of an apology? Maybe they're kind of even now after all the years of her bullying him...? Either way, let me know what you thought of this chapter and if the attack lived up to your expectations.


	21. Chapter XXI

**A/N: **WARNING! The M rating really comes into effect in this chapter as there is a sex scene. So I guess if you're not into that or it somehow offends you then... don't read it. Though I'm not sure why you would read an M story if you didn't like sex scenes? Anyway, I haven't written a sex scene in a LOOONG time, so I was pretty rusty but hopefully it isn't too horrible. Let me know what you think. Also: there are only a few chapters left and then this story will be coming to a conclusion. Yay!

* * *

**Chapter XXI**

"_..and I know you have a heavy heart,  
I can feel it when we kiss…"_

Sam arrived at Bushwell and opted for the stairs instead of the rattling noisiness the elevator brought. The building was mostly silent and Lewbert must have been in the back room somewhere because he wasn't at the front desk to yell obnoxiously at her like he usually did. She reached apartment 8-C and stood in front of it for an exceptionally long amount of time. Her heart raced and she whispered out rehearsals to the closed door of what she would say.

Should she tell him she was most likely pregnant…?

"Look, Spence, I know I probably can't keep it and I know you're not ready for something like this, but…"

She couldn't even get the words to form when she was alone. How would she ever tell him in person? She decided against it. She would tell him another time – like after she'd seen an ultrasound and knew for a fact it was a real, human baby inside of her. And after they'd brought Carly back and attempted to fix things.

What she needed to worry about right now was apologizing. She felt horribly for leaving him alone for the past week and ignoring his phone calls. He was only concerned. The last thing he probably needed right now was to be left alone. Spencer wasn't the kind of guy who handled sadness well.

She thought back to the past few years she'd been around to see how he dealt with the anniversary of the death of his and Carly's mother. Carly was never in a fantastic mood on that particular day every year, but she did make an effort to keep her mind off of it and get on with her life as normal. Spencer, however, usually holed up in his room and didn't appear except for maybe one meal the entire day. Any artwork he was working on at the moment, no matter how important, was abandoned for the day as well. But in the days leading up to the anniversary, Sam would always be asked by Carly to leave her alone with Spencer for a little while. She figured they did some sort of sibling bonding thing – maybe they had their own way of getting through the day. All she knew was that they didn't get a call from their father for the whole month. And that probably bothered Spencer even more than what the day represented.

Carly, however, had never left him alone at the loft on the day itself. Sam never asked questions. But since she'd gotten to know Spencer better… she understood.

"I'm sorry I left you like that, and I'm sorry for saying all of those mean things… I shouldn't have left you alone. I need you right now, Spence. I hate admitting needing people… but I know I can trust you. I…"

She scoffed and shook her head.

"Look, Spence, I didn't mean to be so rude about it, I wasn't intending on hurting you or anything. I just needed some time alone to think. I know you need me, but…"

She shook her head again. She stared down at the ground, her blonde curls falling around her face as she scuffed the floor with the toe of her black flats in frustration. Nothing sounded right. Nothing sounded quite sincere enough. Sam Puckett had never been very good at _apologizing_.

Yes, she needed Spencer, but could she admit that to him? If only he'd seen the way she handled herself earlier tonight –

Except, she didn't. Not really. Freddie had saved her ass. _Freddie_, of all people.

How shameful - to be saved by that dork.

She tried rehearsing once more. "Spence, I love you and – "

The door in front of her suddenly opened to reveal a very disheveled Spencer standing in front of a dark loft. He stared at her questioningly.

"Sam?"

Her mouth remained open, halfway through a sentence she hadn't gotten the chance to finish. She stared back at him, a little surprised. She didn't expect him to be awake or in the living room, let alone to hear her out here and open the door before she'd gotten a chance to plan her speech.

She immediately noticed how bad he looked. His hair was a mess and there were bags under his eyes. He hadn't shaved in a few days and he was wearing baggy, stained sweatpants and an old, paint-stained white T-shirt. There was dry paint up his arms and all over his hands. There was even some on his neck somehow.

"Spencer…" was all Sam could choke out. Her mouth was suddenly incredibly dry.

"Were you talking out here?" he asked, glancing around the hallway to check for signs of someone else.

"Um… yeah. I was talking… to myself," she confirmed awkwardly.

"Oh."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before the aching in Sam's chest became unbearable. Her eyes became watery.

"Spencer… I'm sorry. I love you."

He blinked, stunned at her apology. "Wh… come in. Come on, Sam, come inside."

He ushered her through the door and moved aside to let her in before shutting it behind her. She stopped a few feet in and turned to face him. He flipped on the light switch next to the door and lit the living room up. He squinted at first, but his eyes slowly adjusted.

She opened her mouth to speak again but stopped when she noticed the room around her. Now that it was lit, she could see the extent of Spencer's loneliness.

Almost every surface of the floor and the walls was covered in newspaper, all taped together. Singular words from headlines and articles were circled multiple times with red pen and there were random paintings on some of the papers. Opened paint cans of almost every color were randomly placed throughout the loft. Sam turned around to see the sculpture that had once been in the kitchen – the one Spencer had started and never finished and had ended up knocking over in anger that night after the party – was there again and hastily put back together. Now that it had been broken and put back together, it was quite possibly even better than it had been. It appeared to be a ventricle heart made out of chipped coffee mugs, dirty, old, mismatched Converse shoes, empty spray paint cans, and… self-help books? Yes, those were self-help books, most of them authored by Dr. Phyllis and having to deal with teenagers and raising them properly.

Sam stared in awe at the piece. She knew Spencer had a knack for gluing random junk together and making it into cool pieces of art, but this was kind of ridiculous.

"Spence… what is _that_?" she breathed out.

Spencer scratched the back of his head nervously. "_Useless Heart_. Um… I… I redid what I started. I got really… lonely and… confused…"

She turned back to him for a second but had to turn around again because she wasn't done staring at the sculpture.

"…while you were gone," he finished quietly.

Sam swallowed past the knot in her throat. She faced him once more before inspecting the floor below her. She gave him a questioning look.

"Yeah…" he muttered, looking ashamed.

She sighed. "Spence… I'm really sorry I left you and ignored you. I just thought you needed some… time alone. And I needed my own space to figure things out. You know, this has been really tough on both of us… I just, I couldn't bear facing you when I felt so… disgusting. And it's my fault things are the way they are. I – "

She was interrupted when Spencer wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a tight hug. He held her face against his chest and tightened his wrap around her. She felt him breathe a sigh of relief and his whole body seemed to relax. She didn't say anything, she just let him hold her. Slowly, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around him as well. She breathed in that familiar scent of spray paint and Axe.

After a deafening silence, he whispered out, "You don't have to be sorry… Please don't leave me again, Sam."

She nodded against him, sniffling and trying to hold back her tears. He didn't even need her apology, he just wanted her back.

She listened to the pounding of his heart in her ear until it eventually slowed to normal. She smiled against him, squeezing him a little tighter.

She knew… this was definitely love.

He finally unwrapped his arms from around her and took her face in his hands, lifting it so her eyes met his. She looked up at him expectantly, tears pooled in her eyes. He smiled down at her weakly then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes. She closed hers and kissed him back, taking a sharp breath as she tasted him.

She leaned into the familiarity of him, letting him pull her close to his body as he tried to take away the pain he sensed in her kiss. He kissed her over and over, moving his lips to her cheek and then her jawline before returning to her lips. He buried a hand into her soft blonde locks, grasping them lightly as he deepened the kiss.

Everything seemed to fall down on her at once. Her emotions became overwhelming and the tears fell down her cheeks uncontrollably. Silent sobs shook her body as Spencer held onto her tighter.

"Shh, don't cry," he pleaded, pressing her face to his chest again and trying to comfort her.

She let the tears fall freely, knowing it probably wasn't healthy to have been holding them back for so long. They soaked through and stained his shirt. He felt the wetness against his skin and it hurt him, but he didn't say anything. He let her cry, holding her protectively.

"We're going to fix everything… I promise," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He took in the scent of her shampoo and smiled to himself, happy to have her back.

She cried against him for a short while until she felt she couldn't anymore. She sniffled and pulled away, roughly wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. She looked up at Spencer and he smiled down at her again. She couldn't help but smile back, managing to laugh at how ridiculous she must look remembering that she'd put mascara on at the beginning of the night. He took the sides of her face in his hands and wiped the black streaks from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" she asked, her hands resting on his hips.

"I was hoping you would," he told her. "But your mom…?"

Sam looked away and shrugged. "She's been gone all week… in Mexico with her boyfriend."

Spencer looked confused. "What? You've been alone all week…? Whose car was that?"

"Rodney's," she answered. "He came over for a little bit. He's… been really nice to me."

"Oh," was all Spencer said.

"Not like that, Spence," she assured him. "He's just… been a good friend. I didn't think I had any of those left here."

"I know," he smirked. "I know you better than that. I've just been worried about you."

"I know you have. And I'm sorry… I didn't mean to stress you out any more. I thought not being around would be less stress," she explained.

"Well, it's really the other way around," he told her. "I… can't seem to get my head straight without you around here. Not to mention, my fridge has been way too full."

They both laughed light-heartedly.

"But what happened to your mom being so… protective all of a sudden?"

She sighed. "She goes through phases, I guess. It's just… when I was still in the party scene and doing all that stupid crap a while back, I came home in bad condition a lot – drunk and high and with bruises and stuff. She got really worried. I mean, she doesn't give a shit about a lot of things, but she doesn't wanna see me… end up like her, y'know? She doesn't have to worry about Mel, she knows that. And she figured if I was with Carly and over here all the time, she wouldn't have to worry about me either. But then she saw how I was acting and the kinda stuff I was doing and I guess it kind of woke her up."

Spencer nodded in understanding.

"But… I dunno. I guess she's realized that I'm done with that scene now and, of course, her boyfriends are always more important… or maybe she's just given up on me and figures it doesn't matter how I end up since she's got Mel as a sure bet. At least one kid will be a success – "

"Sam, don't talk like that. You _won't_ end up like her – you're a great person and you've changed a lot in the past year," Spencer interrupted. "You'll be just as successful as your sister, if not more. I know it. I can see it in you."

Sam blushed. "Thanks, Spence…"

He knew it hurt her that her mother cared so much and then suddenly didn't, like parenting was a switch she could just turn on and off at will, but he also knew she'd never let on that it bothered her. He could relate… sometimes he was jealous of Carly because he knew his dad and granddad were already ten times more proud of her than they'd ever been of Spencer or ever would be. They'd never respect him as an artist. But he was also okay with that because he had so much to do with how Carly would turn out, so in a way, he _was_ a success.

If he could bring her back around, that is.

"Can we go to bed? I had a… pretty long walk here," Sam asked, deciding it was best if she left out her run-in with Christian and Freddie.

"Yeah, let's go. I haven't slept well all week," he admitted, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom after turning off the living room light.

They lie in bed a few minutes later, Sam stripped down to her camisole and panties and Spencer down to his boxers. Seattle was bright on Friday night and the city lights leaked in through the small part in the curtains of Spencer's bedroom window. In the streets below, there was chatter, yells, sirens and car horns as well as the occasional car alarm. But it was soothing to both of them to be in a familiar place once again and not be alone.

Sam lay on her side and Spencer wrapped his long arm around her middle, holding her back close against the front of his body. He planted kisses along the side of her neck, his breath becoming hot in her ear. She relaxed into him, feeling truly comfortable for the first time all week. His hand slipped up under her shirt to touch her soft, bare skin. His fingertips traced shapes around her bellybutton and above her panty line. She shivered, but smiled to herself.

It didn't take long for Spencer's blood to start flowing to a particular region of his body and it became obvious when Sam felt it poking against her butt. She chuckled lightly.

"Uh, Spence…?"

He quickly pulled away and lay on his back, keeping an arm flopped over her. "Sorry… it has a mind of its own. I swear, I can't control it."

Sam laughed again. "It's okay, I know."

She rolled over and gazed at him in the dim light that bounced around the bedroom. He smiled, kissing her forehead.

Taking a deep breath, she sat up and threw her leg over him, straddling him and coming to rest on his upper legs. His eyes widened in surprise.

"We don't have to do anything, Sam, I just – "

She shushed him with her lips against his, her blonde hair falling around their faces and tickling his cheeks. She slowly ran her fingers down his stomach before hooking them under the elastic of his boxers, pulling away from the kiss to pull them over his erection and down his legs. He kicked them off the rest of the way.

"Don't you – "

"No, it's gone. I took the medicine and treated it… got rid of it," she assured him before he could finish his sentence. She gave him a confident smile.

"Oh," he smiled back.

"I love you, Spence," she whispered before leaning down and kissing him again.

He closed his eyes and took in the sensation of her hand trailing down to his hardened member. Her soft, small hand closed around it in a firm grip and she slowly stroked, causing more blood to flow to the region. He swore he could feel it throbbing – he'd never wanted something so bad in his life.

He groaned. "Oh, Sam…"

He reached up and lifted her shirt. She paused what she was doing and helped him pull her shirt over her head before tossing it to the floor. He smiled at the appearance of her bare, milky skin and her perfect, full breasts. He ran his hand along her hip, admiring her curves and soft skin. He then realized she'd paused what she was doing.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing the worrisome look on her face.

"Spence… I lied to you…"

He furrowed his brow. "About what?"

She swallowed. "About… Simon being the only guy I've slept with…"

Spencer stopped and pulled his hand back. "Wha… recently?"

"No," she quickly assured, shaking her head. "Just… ever."

He smirked, relaxing. "It's fine, Sam. It's not a big deal. Really."

"Well… I slept with that Connor kid after Simon… and someone else a little bit after that," she whispered hesitantly. "But – I didn't lie when I said you were bigger than anything I was used to."

Spencer shrugged, unable to hold back a faint blush from her comment. "Okay."

She nodded. "I just… wanted to be honest. I'm not like that anymore."

"I know, Sam," he smiled at her, reaching up and taking the back of her head in his hand and pulling her down for another kiss.

She kissed him back and reached her hand down again to resume what she'd started. He was immediately back to his throbbing, needy state. He reached his free hand down and touched her through the thin cotton of her panties, eliciting a gasp from her against his lips. He smiled against her mouth, continuing the motion. Her hand tightened on him and he gasped as well, causing her to smile in revenge. He groaned from his throat, bucking his hips up just slightly, craving more contact.

He slipped a finger beneath the fabric of her panties and touched her without barriers. She shivered and her pace on him quickened in anticipation. His stomach muscles clenched. He was so turned on he was afraid he might finish before they even really got started.

He broke their kiss to whisper hoarsely, "Take your panties off."

She cringed. "I hate that word."

He chuckled, pecking her on the lips playfully. She stood up on the bed and struggled to balance herself as she slipped her panties down her legs and off her feet. While she did so, he craned his neck around and reached one long arm to the drawer of his nightstand, pulling it open and retrieving a condom from inside. He pulled it out and unwrapped it, tossing the packaging to the floor, and slipped the latex barrier over his throbbing erection.

Sam eyed him worriedly. "You think I'm dirty now…?"

"What? No! That's not it at all, Sam, I'm just… being careful. I mean, we kinda took a chance last time. I don't wanna risk it again, y'know?" Spencer quickly defended.

Sam nodded, pursing her lips.

_I probably can't get any __**more**__ pregnant_, she thought to herself in dread, but didn't say anything aloud.

She forced a smile back to her lips and resumed her position, seating herself centimeters away from his aching area. She leaned down and kissed him again. He reached up and pulled her hair to one side of her shoulder so he could move his lips down her face and along her neck. She moaned through bitten lip, knowing she was more than ready for this.

Spencer grabbed both of her hips and held onto them as she raised her body and steadied herself right above him. She slowly and carefully lowered herself onto him, gasping at the sensation. He helped position her, squinting his eyes shut at the anticipated feelings coursing through his body.

Sam moaned out as she took in all of him, lowering herself until her inner thighs were tight against the sides of his waist. She placed her hands on his chest for support and began rising and falling on him. There was some friction from the condom at first, but as she got used to the sensation and her body prepared itself more, it went away. Spencer moved his hands from her hips to her breasts, grasping them firmly as she elicited more moans of ecstasy.

"Oh, God, Sam, that feels _so_ good," he groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He focused on controlling himself, not wanting this to end too soon.

"Yeah – oh, _Spencer_," Sam gasped back, speeding up as the indescribable sensations pulsed through her lower body.

Spencer's hips bucked up into her, causing her to squeal from the unexpected pleasure of the spot he hit. He repeated the motion, opening his eyes and watching her squirm and shiver on top of him. He grinned, a sweat breaking out on his forehead. He grasped her hips again and pulled her down onto him harder, thrusting deeper inside of her.

"Fuck, Sam, I don't think I can hold it much longer," he whispered breathlessly.

She nodded in acknowledgement. Her fingernails dug into his chest.

Taking her by surprise, he raised her up off of him and flipped her over, having her lie on her back before he shoved himself back inside of her, now hovering over her. He steadied his hands on either side of her body and thrust into her harder each time. She raised her legs a little higher and grabbed the back of his head with one hand, the other on his back. Her fingernails dug into his skin again while the other hand grasped at a chunk of shaggy, dark hair. She was quietly squealing in pleasure, her mouth agape.

He slid a hand down to hold one of her hips, loving the feeling of her tiny frame. He thrust harder, feeling that familiar burning at the very pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, a feeling of dread overcame Sam. Her closed eyes popped open and she felt panic spreading through her. What was happening to her? She couldn't explain it, couldn't even think. He breathing quickened, but not from pleasure. Tears welled up in her eyes and she felt those sharp pains on her inner thighs and her lower stomach. Spencer didn't notice, too engulfed in his own pleasure. His eyes were shut momentarily and his breathing was ragged. He reached the hand that wasn't on her hip up to the back of her head, roughly grabbing her blonde hair and pulling on it just slightly. This only increased Sam's panicky feeling.

She didn't know why, but she was thoroughly not enjoying this anymore. She felt like she was being enclosed in a tight space; like she was on a bed of needles and another ceiling of needles was quickly falling down on her. She gasped for air but couldn't seem to get enough into her lungs. Her vision blurred and she thought she might black out.

_That blond hair and his large, muscled body… His sharp hip bones digging into her as he thrust harder… The sound of his skin slapping against her own… His sweat – his disgusting, salty sweat – dripping from his head and face and falling on her chest, neck and cheeks… His grunts of pleasure echoing through the room… That warm sensation entering her as he left a piece of him behind that she just couldn't seem to scrub away with even the hottest of water…_

_No_, she begged silently,_ please not now. Not again. Go away, just go away._

Images of that night ran through her head – images that rarely ever entered her mind except while she slept. It was a like a slideshow of her own pain. She couldn't force them away and couldn't turn it off. They were making this whole sensation painful. What she was enjoying and unable to get enough of mere moments ago she now wanted more than anything to end because it was causing her a pain she couldn't quite describe nor had she ever really experienced.

"Stop," she gasped, trying to raise her voice. But Spencer could barely hear her, thinking she was only moaning for more.

"St-stop. Spencer… Spencer!" she repeated, her voice finally getting louder. "_STOP_!"

She was crying now. At some point, the tears had escaped her eyes and were running down her cheeks, falling into her hair and her ears. Sobs filled her throat as she begged Spencer to stop.

Spencer opened his eyes and looked down at her, shocked to see her state. He immediately halted and pulled himself out of her, ignoring the rather aching need for his own release. Concern overcame him and he let go of her hair and her hip.

"Sam, what-what's wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you crying?" he questioned worriedly. Fear struck him and he was afraid he'd done something to harm her.

She shook her head, pulling away from him as quickly as she could and getting off the bed. She stood up and backed herself against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, even though she willed it with all her might to stop. She brought her knees up to her chest and shut her eyes, shaking her head and trying to rid it of the horrible thoughts plaguing her. Why couldn't she shake these images away? Why did she still feel that pain surging through her? She gasped for air but still couldn't seem to get enough.

"Sam, are you okay?" Spencer cried, standing up and rushing to her side.

He reached out to touch her but she winced away, shaking her head again. She held up a hand to stop him from trying to make any contact with her.

"I can't – I – I… I can't," was all she could choke out in between ragged breaths.

"Sam, please let me help you! I need to know what's wrong," Spencer begged her, tears of fear in his own eyes. "Do I need to call an ambulance?"

She shook her head, forcing herself to steady her breathing. Slowly, the images began to dissipate behind her eyelids and the aching all throughout her body seemed to very slowly fade away. She swallowed hard a few times, taking deep breaths as she rested her forehead against her knees and kept her eyes shut tight. She hadn't even noticed she was digging her fingernails into the skin of her own legs.

"Sam…"

Her body very slowly relaxed and she opened her eyes. Her vision was clear again and she quickly wiped most of her tears away with her hands. She took another deep breath and looked up at Spencer tentatively. Her face was full of questions, as was his. He looked scared and desperate and his cheeks were wet.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, more calmly this time as not to startle her.

She nodded tentatively, biting her lower lip. She took in a shuddery breath.

"What's… going on?"

She shook her head. "I… I'm sorry. I got really… scared… and panicky… I dunno… I couldn't breathe…"

"You had a… panic attack?" Spencer guessed, raising his eyebrows.

She shrugged. "I dunno. I've never had one before… I was just… having flashbacks…"

Now that she was trying to explain, it hurt more. Tears welled up in her eyes again.

"Oh," he understood immediately. "Well, what can I do? Should I call someone…?"

He had no idea how to go about this. He didn't know if it required medical attention or something more.

She shook her head. "No…"

"I'll uh, I'll get you a glass of water. Would that help?" he suggested hopefully.

She nodded. "Sure."

Her mouth was pretty dry now. She watched him stand up and pull the condom off of himself on the way to the door, tossing it on the floor and grabbing his boxers to slip them on quickly. He left the room and returned moments later with a glass of water. He sat down on the floor beside Sam and handed it to her.

She took it in both hands and raised it to her lips, drinking gratefully. She downed half the glass before she lowered it and set it on the floor beside her. She relaxed, letting her feet slide down and her legs stretch out, away from her body.

"Sorry," she whispered, ashamed now. She'd ruined a perfect night between the two of them and she knew it.

"You don't have to apologize," he whispered back. "I understand. I'm just… sorry it happened. I wish I could help you some way…"

She frowned. "Me, too."

He stood up and retrieved her panties and camisole from the floor, bringing them to her. She took them and stood up, slipping them on. She sighed and approached the bed carefully, waiting to see if it would happen again. Spencer watched tensely.

She seemed to feel fine now, however, and decided to lie herself down. She lay on her side and looked up at Spencer, gesturing for him to join her. He did so, lying down behind her once more and very carefully placing an arm over her as if she were made of glass. She took hold of it and pulled his hold tighter around her, bringing him closer until they were skin-to-skin.

He sighed in exhaustion and gently kissed her neck, nuzzling his nose into her thick hair and breathing in her scent.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.

"Not your fault," she mumbled, reaching down and pulling the comforter over the both of them. "I'm… sorry you didn't get to finish…"

He shook his head and whispered, "Doesn't matter."

He was silent for a moment. "We'll fix it… everything… I promise."

She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in, squeezing his arm tighter.

"I love you."

"…I love you, too."

**to be continued…**

* * *

**A/N:** I've never personally had a panic attack but I've been told about them so I hope that was believable enough. What did you think? Also, was the bit about Sam's mom believable? Feedback is always appreciated!


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